Psycho Dimensional Guest
by ThePsychoMuMu
Summary: A crazy alien is dropped into the world of Harry Potter via interdimensional spacetime gap. Let's watch 'im! Rated M for language and future violence.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Finally, I'm uploading a fanfic for others to see! I hope it isn't too horrible... Anyway, for the full summary, go see my profile. Other than that, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I no own Harry Potter; he belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Harry stared, dumbfounded, at…the **thing**…that was sitting on the very edge of his bed. He'd never, even during all his time at Hogwarts, seen anything so strange in his life! Then again, it wasn't every day an alien creature fell from the inter-dimensional time-space gap and into one's own bedroom. Whatever it was, it was staring back at him, the gaze in its bi-colored eyes somewhat inquisitive, but altogether serious.

The creature had the same physical structure of a slim, though somewhat muscular, human, with bipedal legs and thumbs and everything. It was, however, covered from head to toe in short yellow fur, though the fur was red on its left hand, its right foot and at the double-spade tipped tail which made it look as if the tail's tip had been dipped in red ink. Two long, stiff, black wolf ears were perched at the top of its head somewhat like radio antennae, poking out of a shock of red, spiky hair.

It had paws instead of feet; it looked like it would stand only on its toes instead of the whole foot, the heel always off the ground but considering he was sitting it was hard to tell. It was wearing a pair of slightly torn, all at once dusty and muddy jeans that would've mortified Aunt Petunia had she seen them and a brown leather belt with a medium sized silver buckle. Harry's gaze was momentarily drawn to the katana attached to the belt, and gazed at the sword's long black sheath nervously, feeling somewhat intimidated by the object. There was a black, military style back pack clinging to the creature as well and a strange sort of brown leather harness over its shoulders that extended down into three long strips of leather tipped by dangerous-looking metal spikes that lay on his bed behind the creature.

There was a black fingerless glove on its red left hand that had a spiked metal plate on its backing that shone in the light of his dim bedroom and attracted Harry's sight to the shape of its fingers, which were sharp like claws, as if replacing the creature's absent nails. It was also wearing a necklace of black twine which had a strange pendant attached. The pendant had three parts; one was a flat oval of a bluish violet color, which acted as a backing for a flat, golden crown which had a silver crescent embedded into it. The twine was very long, so the pendent came to rest at just above the creature's abdomen. On the face was a small, black triangular patch of furless skin at the tip of a human nose which made it look like a dog's nose. The creature's mouth was slightly ajar, revealing that it also had very sharp fangs in its arsenal of weapons.

A single, thick strand of red hair fell into the right side of its largely human face, slightly obscuring the more intimidating of the two eyes. The left eye was a crimson red, with a slit for a pupil, and had a sort of insane sparkle in it behind the curiosity the creature was displaying. The right eye was a pool of black air with only a blue orb indicating what the creature was looking at. There was a more serious, calculating gaze in this eye and the gaze of both orbs on him made Harry's head spin. Both eyes had stitching on either side of them where, apparently, it'd had some type of accident that had cut across its face where the eyes were.

Speaking of which, the shirtless creature was littered with blackened scars. Its face alone was intimidating just because of that. There was a long scar across his left eye, as well as another over his opposite eye, trailing through his right eye and ending in a lightning bolt that made Harry's own scarred forehead tingle with a strange feeling of kinship. Another trailed up from the left side of his chin, nearly touching the scar on his left eye in its length. Several scars crisscrossed each other on its neck, leading Harry's gaze down to the two scars on the creature's chest. He nearly missed the scar on the creature's left arm and the burn scar on its left shoulder which was barely covered with white, pathetic hairs that did nothing to hide the disfigured flesh.

There were three large scars on its abdomen. One on its left side, surrounded on either side by marks of stitching that had also scarred. This one looked more like a surgical scar than a battle scar; too straight and clean. Another scar was just below its naval and, just like the other one, looked like a surgical scar surrounded by the same stitch scars as the first. The last, however, was definitely a battle scar. It went down diagonally from left to right over the creature's belly, before making a ragged 90° turn at the other side of its abdomen and trailing down to almost reach its belly button, which was stretched slightly toward the scar; probably a side effect of the healing, and the pattern of stitching around the scar indicated just how nasty the wound must've been.

Harry snapped out of his daze as Dudley's voice floated up from the hallway, asking for the Masons' coats. The creature, hearing the noise from downstairs, gazed at a place just right of Harry's feet for a moment, before looking back up at Harry. It brought a finger from its left hand, its red hand, to its lips, signaling Harry to remain quiet while bringing Harry's attention to the lit cigarette in its hand, which explained why the room smelled like tobacco and smoke. Harry nodded, closing the door soundlessly. The two stared at one another for a second, in silence, until Aunt Petunia's high, false laugh sprang up from the living room from almost just beneath Harry's feet.

"Sounds like a fucking animal dying…" the creature commented in a smooth, baritone voice, identifying itself as a male creature, although it wasn't hard to figure it out judging by the fact that he lacked a woman's anatomy. He took a drag from his cigarette, staring at the floor as if he could see Harry's skinny, horse-toothed aunt through the floorboards. Breathing white smoke out of the black nose he created a distinct image of Norbert's smoking nostrils and Harry had to wonder whether the creature was some sort of weird dragon. "Oi…"

Harry nearly jumped into the air upon realizing that the stranger was speaking to him. "Sorry if I curse a lot, but I sorta have a bad habit. You don't mind, do ya?" Harry indicated a 'no' by shaking his head, before coughing as the cigarette smoke found its way to his lungs. "Hm?" Noticing Harry's distress, the creature quickly extinguished the death stick, shoving the lit end into his gloved hand were it was extinguished without as much as a hiss. Harry froze at the unusual, self-abusive sight as the creature shoved the half-finished cigarette into his pocket for later use. "Anyway, sorry for invading your room and smoking in here; I kinda had no choice, seeing how this was the place where the portal dropped me and I just had a bad craving." Harry finally blinked and stared at his 'guest' for a moment.

"Portal…?" He hadn't even noticed that he'd spoken until the creature waved a hand at him, answering.

"Don't worry about it, kid; I'll explain later… By the way, we never properly introduced one another." He stood from Harry's bed, revealing that, despite the powerful air of an old, battle-hardened warrior he had about him, he was quite short, and not even half a foot taller than Harry, who was a solid 5ft 3 in. He held out his left hand, revealing another scar on his arm just above his glove. "My name's Stingchu Dragona. What's yours?" Harry hesitated a moment as the creature's rough, amiable smile showed off his fangs before accepting the friendly gesture and shook the offered hand.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter" he replied, noticing how velvety the fur was on the stranger's hand. Noting how surprised Harry appeared, Stingchu chuckled.

"I'm guessing you've never touched a fuzzy hand before, have you?" Harry shook his head, still somewhat shocked by the unfamiliar sensation and suddenly confused by the fact that the stranger didn't recognize him. Wasn't he famous in the magical world? Surely, a creature so blatantly part of the wizarding world should know who he was, so why wasn't he getting a funny look or something?

"Um…I'm sorry if this is a bit rude, but I don't think this is the best time…"

"Don't worry; I'll be quiet…" He seemed to understand Harry's anxiety over his uncle and sat back down as he gave the young wizard a reassuring nod. There was another long, awkward silence, before Harry edged over to his desk chair and promptly collapsed into it, trying to get a handle on the situation.

"Why are you here?" Stingchu seemed surprised by the sudden question coming from the human, and thought for a moment, having momentarily forgotten what had just happened…

"Hm…" he put his chin in his hand, tracing invisible patterns on the bedcovers with the other "Leana threw me into the inter-dimensional time-space gap thingy again…" he sighed "I just flew for the nearest portal I could find, but it looks like I'm stranded again…" Harry stared, eyes wide, mouth ajar, at Stingchu, flabbergasted.

"Inter-dimensional what?" he squeaked, in shock.

"Hm?" As if suddenly noticing that Harry was all but completely in shock, Stingchu looked momentarily confused by the boy's expression, and then chuckled.

"Inter-dimensional time-space gap. Yep; I'm an alien to both this world and dimension." Harry paled considerably, his eye twitching.

"Oh my god…" Stingchu, noticing his distress, waved a hand at him dismissively.

"Don't worry about it; I don't bite nice humans like you." He winked "by the way" he suddenly looked curious "what planet am I on?" Harry, despite the mind-blowing circumstances of the situation, snorted as he suppressed laughter at the sudden, unexpected pun. Stingchu smiled "feel better?" Harry nodded; the small humor already did wonders to lift the tension from the air. "You have no idea how well that pun works to relax someone who's just found out about this kind of stuff."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you see I'm part of…well actually…hm…" for a moment, it looked, rather disturbingly, like he'd forgotten who he was "oh, right; I'm the co-founder of an inter-dimensional organization called the Trieen Squadron. We're basically trying to make sure there isn't another humongous war."

"You mean another Magical War?" Stingchu blinked at Harry's terminology.

"Magical **what**?" Harry also looked confused now.

"Well, I don't know about you, but here on Earth, certain people can use magic; they're called witches and wizards." Stingchu was silent for a moment, before he burst into an uncontrollable fit of snorts and chuckles.

"W-wizards…snort…fucking hell…" it took him quite some time to calm down. "Kid, you're not a wizard" he said when he could finally speak "you're an ethereal psychogenterran. If there was a wizard on this planet, I'd be with them right now." Harry looked very confused at the information. It was like half the things Stingchu said weren't even English…

"A…what?" He also felt somewhat offended by the snorting chuckles coming from the alien. "Hey, come on, I'm being serious…" Stingchu paused, saw that Harry was upset, and quickly calmed down enough to explain himself.

"Sorry if you're offended Harry, but I **know** what real wizards are, and although you guys, Vizors, are pretty close; you're still just a subspecies of human if you don't go through the rituals."

"Vizors? What?"

"Short term for what I called you before, but going back to what I was saying, our organization's trying to prevent another massive, inter-dimensional war from breaking out." Harry turned from confusion to a nervous curiosity.

"A…An inter-dimensional war?" Stingchu nodded as Harry swallowed nervously past a lump in his throat.

"Yeah, an inter-dimensional war. We called it the Era of Wars, 'cause it was like a whole mesh of hundreds of wars heaped up one on top of another." The cigarette was halfway to his mouth before he stopped himself and returned it to his pocket, remembering Harry's discomfort. "A whole species of a powerful alien, ethereal type decided they wanted to control everything and started killing everything and anything they could find and, as if that wasn't enough, whatever creature surrendered to them had their body taken over them by one of them and were forced to kill their own families, neighbors, friends, whatever."

Shocked by the tragic story, Harry couldn't look at the gleam in Stingchu's eyes anymore and turned away. It was a hard and painful expression; like someone trying to forget scenes of horror. "I'm sure, seein' me sittin' here, you've noticed how many scars I have." He sighed "I was alive and fighting during the whole damn war, along with a couple dozen other people kind of like me." he sighed again, appearing suddenly tired. "Unfortunately, the end of the war came because one of my dearest friends gave his life in order to practically destroy the enemy's central power source." He brought a hand to his right cheek, a wistful, mournful gaze in his eyes as he traced the wires stitched into either side of the stranger of the two orbs, his expression almost painful. He then snapped out of his daze, took a deep breath, and continued. "With that done, the rest of us made short work of the remaining bastards and the war was over."

He had to return the cigarette to his pocket again; this time, it had made it to his mouth. "So, me an' another good buddy of mine created the Trieen squadron. We go around to each dimension and weed out the remaining patches of enemy sources and establish peaceful connections with other dimensions capable of inter-dimensional travel. As you can see, however" he grinned, suddenly dropping the bitter cloud of hatred and sorrow that had momentarily surrounded him "sometimes, we drop by the wrong places by accident, like right now. I'm afraid I'm gonna be around for a little bit, neh…?"He scratched the back of his head nervously, grinning awkwardly but cheekily all the same.

--

Meeting Stingchu, Harry decided, made up for being isolated from the magical world for so long. He had told the alien his life story, including the part about his scar (Stingchu had commented that he'd sensed a story behind the mark). It was well into the night when Harry finished his story about his first year at Hogwarts. "Sounds like you led a pretty exciting first year at magic school." Harry grinned "Hearin' you talk about the 'Wizarding World', I've got to say that you Vizors have done a pretty good job for yourselves, but it looks like no one's really trying alchemy yet, neh?"

"Alchemy? Wha-oh, never mind, I don't want to know." Stingchu had, in between some of the more boring parts of his story, filled Harry's mind with enough new, fantastic ideas that the young wizard had a feeling his head would explode.

"So, how are your friends Ron and Hermione now?" Harry stiffened at the reminder that the two people he considered his friends had still not written.

"I don't know."

"Eh?" noticing Harry's suddenly stiff expression, Stingchu couldn't help but be concerned. "What's wrong?" Harry put his head in his hands, sighing.

"I haven't gotten any letters from them. Even today, on my birthday…" Stingchu gasped, shocked.

"Your birthday?" he was wide-eyed at the information and he all but flung his backpack off, opening the main compartment and rummaging through it. As he rifled through the items within, he muttered their names aloud to himself. "I know it's in here somewhere…mission reports…grenade, energy whip…ouch!" He withdrew his hand momentarily, revealing a small cut "fucking kyogetsu-shoge; I thought I left that home. Would've been useful to have known it was there earlier…" he grumbled from around his finger which was now in his mouth to stop the bleeding as he rummaged through the bag with his other hand, now more carefully knowing that whatever sharp object that had injured his finger was in there. "Hm…flare, grenade…condom…grenade…gren-…why the hell did I bring so many grenades?" He looked into the seemingly innocent back pack, unaware of the mortified stare Harry was giving him.

'_Condoms and grenades_,' Harry thought to himself '_who the bloody __**Hell**__ carries around both condoms and grenades in the same bag compartment…?_' Obviously, Stingchu did, and at the moment, he seemed to have found what he was looking for and took it out of his bag.

It was an oval, metal object about the size of a very large rock. Harry had to wonder, looking at its substantial size, how Stingchu could've missed it (no matter how many grenades there were); it was a bit eye catching, seeing as how it was a brilliant silver and was glowing a soft white, illuminating the room slightly. Stingchu brushed some nonexistent dust off of it, placing it beside him on the bed, revealing that the oval had four stubby little 'legs' which would probably hold it up off the ground. Stingchu also pulled a thin, blue book out of the bag and then closed the back pack and put it on the bed, sliding off the bed to sit on the floor, and motioning for Harry to join him.

Sitting across from Stingchu on the floorboards, the oval between them, Harry waited patiently as Stingchu read the book, muttering a strange language under his breath, his long black ears twitching every so often. Harry gazed at the cover of the book, but was unable to decipher the curvy symbols on it, and guessed that it had to be some sort of alien language. After a few moments of patiently waiting, Stingchu exclaimed "aha!"

"What is it?" Harry asked, intrigued by the object.

"Just wait a moment" Stingchu said, winking, and then turned to the object and spoke in a commanding voice "kirshav vlksci, marlkijugridle." As if he had said some kind of demented secret password, the object hummed to life.

"_Nakato_" the device said, its tone robotic "_flgjashi kmyto. Jivlghin lnji?_"

"Flt" Harry had no idea how Stingchu managed to be speaking such complicated words, but he was and was obviously replying an affirmative to the device, nodding. "English, please." Harry was startled by the sudden language change.

"_Request confirmed_" the device replied "_language set to English. Is this the owner?_" Harry stared and stared at the object, unable to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

"No," Stingchu replied "the owner is Harry Potter."

"_Owner Identification: Harry Potter confirmed. Please fill in the owner's profile._" The side of the object facing Stingchu grew suddenly bumpy, changing shape and elevating slightly from the object's side. At the top of the object, a small hole opened up from its otherwise smooth, flawless surface and a beam of light shone into the air, widening into a rectangle. Looking at the rectangle of light, Harry read the backwards letters, seeing that the slot of 'name' had already been filled with his own name; correct spelling and everything.

"Well," Stingchu, cracking his fingers, attracted Harry's attention "I'm gonna need ya' to give me a hand with this then." He took out a watch from his back pocket, glanced at it, and then poised his fingers over the bumps in the side of the object, which had turned into a keyboard.

Taking a deep breath, Stingchu began typing furiously, not even looking at his fingers. It seemed that he was so accustomed to typing that he'd memorized the position of the keys. After a few moments, Stingchu grinned through the screen at Harry. "Well, then, what's your middle name?" Harry blinked for a moment, confused, before he realized that Stingchu was talking to him and gave a reply.

"James."

--

"Is that all?" Harry breathed, astonished at how much information Stingchu had typed in. It had been a whole 20 minutes since they had started and his legs were beginning to get cramped.

"Just one left, but don't worry about it. Now starts the fun part." Stingchu didn't ask him any question however, and filled in whatever it was himself. Hitting the enter key for the last time, the keyboard and light receded and the object was once again a smooth, untouched surface. It spoke up again.

"_Owner's Profile confirmed. Please proceed to the customization section._"

"Customization section?"

"Yeah, the fun part" he winked again. The object began to change once more; this time, however, it grew taller and thinner, until it no longer needed the stubby legs to hold it up, and it still grew taller! Soon it was large enough to be a mirror for the seated Harry. A light went on, illuminating Stingchu's ears, the only part of the emanchu that Harry could see over the object.

"Stingchu, what-?" All of a sudden, the light went off and he was blasted in the face by a pleasant, calm, aerial view of water. It was like flying over an ocean and looking straight down into it.

"_New voice detected; identify the speaker._"

"Um…Harry Potter…"

"_Owner confirmed. Please, proceed to customization._" The screen blinked, and suddenly, on top of the picture of water, there were three boxes labeled 'Domain 1', 'Domain 2' and 'Domain 3'.

"Uh…Stingchu…?"

"Domain 1" Stingchu replied immediately, not even having to be asked to know what Harry was looking at. Harry stared, dumbfounded, at the screen.

"Um…Domain 1…?" There was no response.

"You gotta touch the screen, kiddo" Stingchu advised.

"Oh" Harry touched the box on the screen, feeling rather foolish as he watched a ripple appeared under his finger, spreading out across the screen. As it passed across the screen, the boxes disappeared and another two boxes appeared with a question above them. It said 'is your home dimension a common dimension?'

"Yes" Stingchu said immediately, as if sensing the oncoming question. Harry touched the appropriate box again and 30 others popped up with the statement 'please identify your dimension'. "Multi-Cultural, Multi-Universal, Mammalian, Carbon" Harry had to wonder if his new alien friend was telepathic or not; it was starting to freak him out… Nevertheless, he scrolled down and found the box, which opened up into another list asking for the name of his galaxy.

It was a very long list this time, and Harry found that he had to scroll down quite a ways to find the Milky Way. As soon as he had, though, an even longer list popped up, which worried him. Exactly how many planets were there? He found Earth after a while though, and it rippled again, with only 4 boxes opening up; 'Technological', 'Alchemical', 'Tribal' and 'Other'. Harry, not seeing magic anywhere, pressed 'Other'.

"_Please identify state of Earth._" the machine requested.

"Vizor and Human inhabited, Dual World, Separate Human and Dominant Magical Society." Stingchu said simply. The machine was silent for a moment.

"_Launching probe…10…9…8…_" Stingchu looked a bit concerned, looking around the screen at Harry.

"Your planet's not very well known to the other dimensions, is it?" Harry just gave him a confused look, and Stingchu sighed. "Never mind" at that moment, a small, metal ball, barely the size of a pebble, emerged from the side of the screen, levitating out the window.

It was at this moment that Harry realized that the window was open and that Hedwig was missing. Her cage door was opened and the lock lay on the floor, crushed into pieces with the loop ripped off the main body. He gave Stingchu a piercing look, to which the furry alien acted like he didn't see.

"Stingchu? Where's my owl?" Stingchu blinked, as if he didn't know what Harry was talking about, and then his face lit up in realization.

"Oh!! You mean that beautiful snowy owl that was in here?" Harry nodded "well, I let her out; she looked pretty miserable all couped up and she looked like a nice owl, so…" Harry smiled at him.

"Stingchu, you've no idea how much you've just helped me…" He just smiled back at his human companion, nodding. It was at that moment that they heard a faint 'boom' in the distance. "What…was…?"

"You know that itty bitty little thing that just floated out the window?" Harry nodded "it was a probe. It just passed the sound barrier and will completely scan the entire planet, all of it, including the magical part, at the speed of light, and return in approximately 5 minutes." Harry's jaw dropped at the absurdity of what he'd just been told.

"You mean to tell me **that** little thing…?" he pointed out the window and Stingchu nodded "and it can…?" Another nod, and Harry slumped, his chin in his hand. "This is too bloody much…"

--

"_Scan complete, please continue customization._"

"Say, Stingchu, I don't think you ever told me what this is…" There was no reply from the yellow alien, who acted like he'd never been asked the question. "Stingchu?" Harry sighed, realizing that no answer was going to come. "Will you at least tell me what this customization is supposed to do?"

"It's going to turn into whatever you want it to." There was a brief pause as Harry mulled this over.

"**Wicked**…" He saw two choices on the screen now; 'humanoid' and 'animal'. He chose animal, knowing almost exactly what he wanted. Stingchu had, by now, come to sit next to Harry and watched the young wizard glide through a list of mythical creatures until choosing…

"A dragon, eh?" Harry nodded, but paused.

"This thing won't grow to-"

"Nah, you'll be stuck with somethin' real chibi-like. Small enough to tuck into your shirt…though there is that guardian function…" He trailed off after that, and Harry turned to see what had shut him up so suddenly.

"Guardian function?" It was no use; Stingchu was lost to the world, the oddest little, slightly thoughtful, expression on his face as he stared into the distance. Harry blinked at the behavior in confusion before shrugging and turning back to the screen, customizing the creature so that it had four legs, a pair of wings, a long tail and two horns that curved back along its head.

"May I, perhaps, make a suggestion?" Stingchu suddenly asked as Harry was about to skip over to color, obviously emerging from his trance. Pausing, Harry thought for a moment.

"Sure, why not?" Stingchu, at the small statement, looked at the dragon a moment, before making his decision.

"Put feathers at the elbows, and at its temples" he thought for a moment as Harry did so "and put hair on his head. Make the hair look like yours, and trail it along its back to make a tuft at the tip of its tail." He looked at the picture "yeah, like that."

"Hm…I kind of like how that looks…thanks."

"No problem, chibi" Stingchu replied, ruffling Harry's hair affectionately. Harry gave him an odd, slightly irritated look before turning back to the screen. Switching to color, Harry turned the claws black, as well as the hair, since Stingchu **had** told him to make it look like his. At that point, however, he was stumped. "Stuck?" Stingchu inquired, after noticing Harry's almost frustrated expression.

Harry nodded, and Stingchu stood, walking over to the window, and grabbed something out of one of the smaller compartments of his bag. It was small and cylindrical. Stingchu pointed it at the sky, one end to his left eye. He took a few moments just moving it around the night sky, to the curiosity of Harry, before he exclaimed "aha!" A small click resounded, identifying the object as a camera, and the emanchu padded back over to the screen. "Cable uplink to a CTSC version 2, please" he said to the object and a small knob formed at the side of the screen. Pulling on it, a cable emerged and Stingchu attached the plug into a socket on the side of the cylinder.

A small window opened on the side of the screen. "How about that?" he asked. Looking closer, Harry couldn't quite make out what was depicted among the night sky's stars.

"I don't know, let me see…" He touched the window, selected the area he wanted it to be on the dragon, and watched as the dragon's top scales turned into the night sky. On either side of the dragon, depicted like racing stripes…was the Milky Way. "Perfect, mate…" Harry muttered, amazed at the vision of color on the dragon's side. "I think I can take it from here, though…" he smiled at the emanchu, and went back to work, giving the dragon's underbelly and the wings' membranes a solid black color. He then added a splash of luminosity to the creature by giving it bright, baby blue eyes.

"_Form Selected. Please complete profile_" the machine piped up.

"What now?" Harry asked, looking to Stingchu.

"You choose a gender, customize personality and behavior and other such little traits, but more importantly, now you name it."

"Name it?" Stingchu nodded.

"Surely, you wouldn't like to call it 'Flgjashi' all the time?" Harry stared at the older alien for a moment, somewhat caught off guard by the sudden lapse into gibberish and at the bluntness of his question.

"Definitely not…I can't even pronounce that…well…I think I've got the right idea…" Turning back to the screen to see that the keyboard was back, Harry typed in the dragon's name.

"Galaxy, neh?" Harry nodded at Stingchu's inquiry, and then started choosing the dragon's other specifics. Stingchu looked on, his smile getting wider and wider at the young Vizor's choices.

--

"_Please stand by for reset and birth._" The object turned back into the oval, only now it no longer had the stubby legs and looked a lot like an actual dragon egg. It was humming softly, emitting a sort of 'om' sound. Harry blinked in confusion, turning to Stingchu.

"So, how long does this take?" he asked, curious.

"About 10 minutes. At this point, it's running the personality into every part of its CPU core. That way it can turn its exoskeleton, its memory banks and the majority of its processing hardware into an organic substance without losing any of the data we inputted as well as input the personality you constructed. Basically, it's really being born; it's kind of like a nicer version of artificial intelligence that has a conscience." They both then turned to stare at the egg, which was still humming.

"So…" Harry said, trying to fill the silence.

"Hm…"

"Well…what now?"

"We wait…**quietly**…" Harry turned to the alien in slight shock; had Stingchu just politely told him to shut up? Stingchu pretended that he didn't notice the flabbergasted look coming from the human beside him though, staring down at the glowing oval, chin in hand. Harry just shook his head and copied the pose, staring at the glowing orb.

--

Sure enough, 10 minutes later, a large crack formed in the object's side and in a matter of moments, the entire thing burst into pieces, revealing the dragon Harry had just created on the screen. The pieces of the 'shell' evaporated into nothingness, leaving only the small dragon, lying in a prostrate, spread-eagle position on the floor, its eyes closed. It was twitching; muttering in an indiscernible language that Harry could've sworn was made up of only clicks, beeps and whirs.

Next to him, Stingchu was twitching slightly. Then, as the wait grew unbearable for the emanchu, he removed his katana from his belt and nudged the dragon with the tip of the sheath. "Wake up, lazy ass…" The dragon stirred at the gentle prodding, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'go away'. Eye twitching, Stingchu whacked the creature violently with the sheathed blade, making Harry jump in shock at the sudden burst of hostility. "WAKE UP!!" Snapping awake, the little dragon spit a small burst of fire in Stingchu's direction, leaping back.

"What the fucking HELL?!" It yelped, a frazzled expression on its face.

"You were taking too long." Stingchu replied, once again completely calm now that the dragon had woken up "you're lucky I didn't swing harder…" He threatened at the defiant gleam in the dragon's eye, shaking a reproving finger at it. The dragon leaped onto Harry's shoulder, looping his serpentine form around the back of Harry's neck and sticking his tongue out at the menacing emanchu. Harry laughed, enjoying the sensation of the small creature's comforting weight on his shoulders.

"Happy Birthday Harry" Stingchu drawled as Galaxy the Mecha-Organic Chibi Dragon smiled up at him cheekily, bolder now that he was safely clinging to his owner's shoulders. Then, there was a loud 'pop' sound and a small cloud of smoke appeared in the room, followed by the strangest creature, besides Stingchu, that Harry had ever seen.

The creature had large, bat-like ears, huge eyes, a long nose, and was dressed in what looked like a pillowcase that had holes for its arms and legs. It was currently looking down the long, polished, metallic surface of Stingchu's drawn katana which the emanchu was pointing at him, looking fit to kill at the slightest of provocations. There was a brief moment during which the room was heavy with the sense of danger and the little house elf looked ready to faint before Stingchu blinked, relaxing as he saw that the little thing was not a threat. He returned the dangerous blade to its saya (sheath), before smiling gently at the creature, crouching down to its eye level. "Sorry little guy" Stingchu said "I didn't mean to scare ya; I'm just not keen on folks appearing out of nowhere so suddenly…"

"Dobby didn't mean to upset you, sir" the little house elf said, bowing. "It's just that he must speak to Harry Potter, sir." Galaxy, instead of retorting to the simple statement with words, chirped in a way that could almost be described as sarcastic. Stingchu rolled his eyes at the quip only he could understand, before turning back to the still stunned house elf.

"Take a load off, little fella" he said, waving a hand in the air before leaning against the dresser in Harry's room. Dobby looked confused a moment before Harry explained.

"Have a seat" Harry translated for the little creature…although when the little house elf's eyes started tearing up, he had to wonder if he'd done something wrong. Stingchu moved before Harry had even realized that Dobby was about to cry. In milliseconds there was a small, rectangular piece of paper on Dobby's forehead. It had strange symbols on it, but overall looked useless…until Harry realized that it was glowing green and that there was no sound coming from Dobby's wailing mouth.

"That would've been bad…" Stingchu muttered tensely, staring at the floorboards as if seeing through them, both his ears looking stiffer than usual. Harry simply nodded, patting Galaxy as the little dragon sighed in relief.

--

"My name is Dobby, sir, just Dobby, Dobby the house-elf."

"Oh, so you're a house-elf?" Stingchu smiled, showing off his fangs "well that tells me only less than nothing…" he deadpanned, speaking through the clenched smile. Hurriedly, Dobby explained what house-elves were, sensing Stingchu's displeasure. Harry listened as well, but kept glancing at Stingchu, still a bit confused by the suddenly moody behavior he'd developed.

Then again, seeing Dobby trying to beat himself up again after something he'd said would get on anyone's nerves. Somehow, within the split second Stingchu had realized what Dobby was about to do, he'd reattached the paper to Dobby's forehead and, at the same time, gotten the little elf into a headlock. Eventually, Dobby slumped against the emanchu's steely hold and Stingchu dropped him on the bed like a sack of potatoes with a vehement huff. "I'm going to say it only once" Stingchu warned, drawing himself together in such a manner that he suddenly looked infinitely more commanding "you are never to hurt yourself in my presence, ever again." Dobby looked about ready to sob again, but nodded sheepishly and the paper was removed with a snappy motion "good." He stated firmly, as if cementing some sort of alliance.

"Er…Dobby?" The little house-elf turned to Harry at the inquiry "you said that your family makes you punish yourself a lot. If it's that bad, then why don't you just run away?" Dobby seemed melancholy by the reminder.

"A house-elf can not have freedom unless he is set free, sir, unless he is given clothes, and the family will never set Dobby free… Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir…"

"I knew it…" Stingchu muttered crossly, his brows drawn together in a stern expression "I knew there was something funny going on here…" He sighed "great, political corruption…probably nobility mixed in too, and where nobility goes, aristocracy follows" he sighed "man, I really need a cigarette…" Galaxy clicked sarcastically, earning an irritated glare from Stingchu which it ignored.

--

Stingchu was pissed, no, **very** pissed in fact, for three simple, annoying reasons. The first, and most important, was that he had a craving for a death stick. The second was the bright thought of having to deal with a crowd of pompous assholes in order to have any fun at all on this planet… The third, of course, was what had just happened only moments ago to young Harry Potter.

Dobby ('the little shit' Stingchu thought to himself) had tried to convince Harry to stay away from Hogwarts by holding the boy's mail hostage, something no one should to a young boy who had so obviously suffered child abuse. Stingchu knew; he'd seen it before. Next, he had chased the little elf down the stairs and, as far as he'd gathered, something traumatic happened, most likely revolving around the subject of Dobby or Galaxy, to make the two people that Harry's uncle was entertaining leave abruptly.

He left the room, irritated and fidgety and wanting a cigarette, but wanted to make sure that the young boy was alright first. He didn't know why, really. He supposed that, after raising nearly 60 children of all shapes, sizes and genders, he'd developed a certain paternal instinct for these things… Perhaps it was fortunate that he'd reached the kitchen to see what was happening, or perhaps not. The point is that it would change Harry's life forever.

A fully grown man of prodigious girth and no neck, his face all red, smacking a young, pale, very thin boy with all the power in his meaty arm. It was a sight that could make any decent being recoil in horror, but Stingchu had only two reactions when it came to child abuse; homicidal anger, or mindless fury. Unfortunately, or perhaps not depending on how one looked at it, Stingchu was feeling the latter, since his cravings weren't letting him think straight enough for cold-blooded murder at the moment.

Half a second after the back of Uncle Vernon's fist collided with Harry's cheek, Stingchu's yellow fist was deep within the fat of Vernon's belly. Not that long afterward, physics caught up and the fat bastard was sent through the kitchen wall and into the bushes outside, unconscious. Aunt Petunia screamed bloody murder at the sight as Dudley fell back on his ass and backed up into a wall, whimpering. Uncle Vernon had never been stopped before, and both the fact that the emanchu had done just that, and that there was now an alien standing in the kitchen, pretty much shattered their shallow little minds. Stingchu didn't pay attention to them though. Hell, he didn't care about them; he was too busy helping Harry sit up.

Galaxy was still bristling angrily, alternating between sharply chirping or hissing in fury in the general direction where the fat man had flown. He'd been hung up chasing Dobby through a small gap between the dimensions, and had just returned in time to watch his master get hurt. The only consolation he had was that he'd returned his owner's mail, which lay at his feet as he cursed in an alien language that Stingchu didn't seem to be very familiar with…

Harry had hit his head on the way down, and flinched as the emanchu gently prodded the injured part of his head. His cheek was red and swollen, the shape of a fist glowing against his pale skin like a stop sign in daylight. Stingchu cursed quietly, harshly, as he examined the back of Harry's head, gently poking certain places close to it with the same yellow hand that he had used to punch Vernon through the wall with. Harry flinched at times, his vision spotty as certain places touched ignited in pain.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed as Stingchu's hand touched the top of his neck, cringing sharply. Stingchu snorted, shaking his head sharply.

"Fuck, that's bad." He stood up "you might have a concussion, kid, and definitely a sprained neck. I felt a pretty bad knot there…" Harry tried to stand, but his vision swam and he fell back on his ass, stopped from cracking his skull on the linoleum again by Stingchu's quick reflexes. Galaxy whined in concern at the scene. "Scratch that, definitely a concussion. Don't try to stand; it'll hurt like a bi-PUT THAT FUCKIN' PHONE DOWN, YOU **BITCH**!!!"

In an instant, Stingchu had gone from comforting him to yelling at Aunt Petunia, who'd grabbed the phone in what she had most likely hoped was an inadvertent way. "LIE DOWN!! WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!!!" She stood there, stunned to pieces for a moment, in a trance, before… "_**NOW**_!!" In a flash, she was on the floor, shaking in fear and whimpering. "That's it. That's fucking _it_." Stingchu breathed, before turning back to Harry "kid, I'm sorry to be a jerk and demand things of you, but you're comin' with me. Is there anything you want to take with you?" Harry, who'd been staring at the surreal situation before him, jerked as he was addressed.

"Um…" Stingchu's eyes, previously mellow in his room, were now intense and focused; he didn't know how to react to that sort of severity, which made McGonagall's glares pale in comparison… "W-Well, there's my trunk, and all my wizarding things, as well as Hedwig's cage…"

"Done" Stingchu said firmly "where is your trunk and magic stuff?"

"The trunk's locked in the cupboard under the stairs. All my things are in it, including my broom…" Stingchu nodded.

"I'll be back before you can even say your full name." He then exited the door.

"Harry Jame-" Before Harry had time to sarcastically utter his own name, the door slammed open again and Stingchu breezed in, carrying his trunk, Hedwig's cage and his own backpack, all in the same hand. Behind him was a scene of destruction where the hallway used to be; it made the stairs seem dangerous to climb, not to mention what the obviously vengeful emanchu had done to the rest of the hall… Setting the things down, Stingchu slung his pack on, fastening Hedwig's cage by its loop onto one of the leather strips behind him. He used the other two strips to tie his trunk on.

"Feng Shedun" He uttered, and the crates and cage levitated, much to everyone's surprise (even Harry's), into the air. "Galaxy, up" he called, patting his left shoulder. To Harry's surprise, the little dragon obeyed. Then, as if it was a habit of his, Stingchu bent down next to Harry, uttered a small apology, and slung the young boy over his other shoulder, fleeing through the hole in the wall, the cage and the trunk following him as he disappeared into the night, swallowed by the shadows.

Author's Notes: There you have it? So, how was it? Good, bad, boring? For anyone noticing non-British language in Harry's speech, now and in the future, don't be afraid to notify me. I don't bite...much... Anyhow, be sure to keep your criticisms honest and supportive, as those kinds make me a better writer!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Here we are; chapter 2! I wouldn't expect this update-every-day thing to last too long, though, but don't worry, there'll be enough to not leave you hanging! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I no own Harry Potter. He's J.K. Rowling's property. I'm serious; he's got 'property of J.K. Rowling' stamped on his ass!!

--

Stingchu ran well into the night, not stopping for the slightest moment, even to catch his breath which he didn't even seem to lose - sprinting mostly silently through the suburbs at top speed and through backyards mainly, where he remained unseen. He reached the forest and had been traveling quite a ways when Galaxy informed him that Harry had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He slowed to a stop, finally taking a break.

He put Harry down, turning around to open the trunk. He rummaged through it for a moment, not even batting an eye at the invisibility cloak (which he recognized for what it was), before finding one of Harry's winter school robes and closing the still floating trunk. Wrapping Harry up in the cloak, Stingchu hefted the young boy gently onto his shoulder and then continued his run, not even panting in exertion.

It wasn't until dawn broke that Stingchu decided he'd reached a safe place and set Harry down, shaking him gently in an attempt to wake him. It was, perhaps, too effective a method since Harry jerked awake, reaching up to rub at his eyes, and then reaching over for his glasses. Stingchu, seeing his dilemma, spoke up; "lost them when I dragged you out last night, remember?" Harry started in surprise, before a look of realization crossed his face.

"Yes, actually; since I couldn't see, I fell asleep. It happens when I'm not wearing my glasses. Plus there was this nice vibration under my stomach…" he sighed "dammit, I can't see now…" Stingchu shook his head as Galaxy leaped off his shoulder, switching to Harry's shoulder, a wing around his owner's neck for support.

"I told you didn't I? You're not a real wizard. If you were, you'd never need eyeglasses." Harry gaped at him (or at least his fuzzy silhouette) "no kidding. Here, let me show you…" Stingchu's red hand covered Harry's still blind-as-a-bat eyes and there was a sudden, brilliant white flash of light that made Galaxy squawk, nearly falling off Harry's shoulder as he vehemently uttered something that, while slightly slurred, was probably foul judging by the admonishing look Stingchu shot him. When Stingchu removed his hand from Harry's eyes, Harry had to squint, shielding his eyes a bit as white melted back into the darkness of the forest.

When he could see again, he gaped openly, much to Stingchu's amusement. The emanchu chuckled at the young Vizor's flabbergasted expression. Then again, it was understandable seeing how he'd just restored Harry's sight to what it had not been for years. As the young boy sat there, gaping, Stingchu began planning, sitting down beside him and sticking a cigarette into his mouth, lighting it with a flame from his hand. Galaxy, after shooting a dirty look at the seated alien's cigarette, chuckled, muttering something about 'funny master'.

--

"Are you a wizard?" Stingchu choked on his spit, trying not to laugh at the question as he coughed smoke, turning away from the human so as to not flood his young charge's lungs with the cancerous fog. He then chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair.

"I'm not a human, chibi" he said affectionately, grinning genially "I can't be a wizard. I can just use magic real well." Harry blinked at the explanation, before nodding.

"Well, I guess it makes sense; after all, any wizard would have to have started out as a human first…"

"Not exactly" Stingchu said "you only need human blood in your family's ancestry, as well as the correct alleles." Galaxy seemed to perk up slightly, as if recognizing what Stingchu was talking about.

"Al-whats?"

"Allel-wait…" he turned to Harry "aren't they teaching you any of that stuff in school?" Harry shook his head.

"We only learn to use magic." Stingchu said silent for a moment, then blew out a puff of smoke contemptuously.

"Hmph, only magic? Fat lot of good that'll do ya. What if ya get into a close quarters combat situation? You gotta know basic anatomy or at least hand to hand for that."

"Huh?"

"Do you know **anything** about fighting?"

"Um…not really…" he muttered, rubbing one of his arms self-consciously. He was more used to getting beat up than dishing it out…

"See; that's what I'm talking about! If you're gonna learn magic, the best way to start is by training your body. All the great wizards I've ever known have always started out with martial arts, or body building, or at least some kind of physical conditioning." He snorted, as if offended by the lack of it. Harry got a funny feeling that he was ranting… "No wonder your teachers think they're wizards or witches; they don't know any better. If they were all martial artists, that war thing you told me about probably wouldn't have even happened." For a moment, Harry was afraid Galaxy, trembling on his shoulder, would give into his laughter. It wasn't hard to sympathize; Stingchu was making several wild gesticulations that were, in a way, overly dramatic and somewhat humorous…

The alien did not seem to notice, however; in fact, he was still ranting… "Truly great masters of the fighting arts don't bother with world conquest; only inner conquest. Well, your ignorance stops here." He rose to his feet. "I'm going to be your teacher from now on."

"Wh-wha?"

"Well, you got that Voldemort fucker to deal with, don't ya? That means you need to get stronger, and I doubt that your teachers can help you. With my help, you'll be ready for him the next time he decides to crawl out from whatever hole he's hiding in. Plus you'll be a lot healthier." He gave Harry a critical look "you're practically a walking billboard for chronic pneumonia and juvenile arthritis. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if arthritis ran in the family…" He muttered this last part thoughtfully, picking at the scar on his chin. "Well, first things first, then" he shouldered his pack, cracking a stiff joint in his hip "time to find a nice, obscure place to live." Harry hesitated for a moment, before following, his mind numb.

--

The 'nice, obscure place' turned out to be the first cave they ran into. It got a little hairy when they woke up the bear in it, but Stingchu set the hulking animal on its way, limping heavily and moaning as it passed Harry obliviously, running away from Stingchu who was hollering within the dark alcove about 'stupid, incorrigible fucking bears'. The foul language seemed to amuse Galaxy, who began soundlessly imitating the strange emanchu.

By the time Harry gathered his wits/composure enough to follow (hey, the little dragon had even made the same wild hand gestures), Stingchu had already cleared the cave of leaves, plugged the leaking ceiling, and created a fireplace, the brick a curious black, all through means unknown but probably magical. With a wave of his hand, two cozy-looking armchairs appeared near the fireplace as well, flanked by a small table between them. Galaxy whistled quietly, impressed by the extent of the renovations already being made.

Harry watched, wide-eyed, as the emanchu went on to create two extremely comfy-looking beds in one section, a small section near a fully stocked kitchen area with an unusually low table in it and a large, square, level area for god-knew-what, and a doorway leading to several other…erm…necessaries… All without a wand.

"We're living **here**??" He finally squeaked out.

"No" Stingchu deadpanned "we can't. There's one more thing to do." With that, he knelt, placing both hands on the ground. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes…

A blast of white energy erupted from Stingchu, racing into the ground and spreading through the cave until the light was so bright that Harry squeezed his eyes shut against it. His eyes closed, Harry heard rustling and sounds of snapping twigs until finally the light began to dim. When Harry finally opened his eyes, he had to blink away all the white spots that had formed from the intensity of the glow. What he saw next was something even Merlin would think was impossible.

An entire jungle had grown into the cave…an alien jungle… The leaves ranged from various blues to an incredibly dark green and even black. Most of the black ones were thin, spiky-looking, and closer to the ground, thought they were definitely not grass. The grass was a few shades darker than powder blue, short and looked fuzzy more than anything. The only places free of the grass were the largest area and the kitchen area.

Leaves ranging from sapphire to a darkish aqua covered the middle area. They were strangely transparent, creating an odd glow in the room. Harry could've sworn they were precious gems. In addition, hanging from the highest portion of the walls were slightly livelier leaves of lighter shades. These were differently shaped as well, not rounded, but split rather like fingers. Among these lighter blues were blacks and dark greens clustered in areas where light was not as strong. The light itself was even more amazing.

The roof of the cave had been raised an entire 2 feet from the top leaves and then turned out into a dome shape. The entire dome of the ceiling was glowing with a cool, gentle light that made Harry almost believe Stingchu had summoned a thousand fireflies from nowhere to nest there, only the glow was slightly tinged with yellow instead of full-blown yellow and had the quality of moonlight. The effect made the room seem larger than it was, and it made him feel very small... Harry glanced behind him, only to see a pair of mahogany doors staring back at him, the handles made of strange, bluish silver. Here too, the leaves curled onto the edges of the door's frame, which was connected so expertly with the rock that Harry almost believed it was part of the cave despite its perfectly arched shape.

"Aaahhh…" Stingchu sighed as he walked into the room, fur shining beautifully in the light that made Harry look at him in a different way. After all, under the light, it was harder to see the scars on the emanchu's back… "The old grass feels so good…"

"The…old grass?" Stingchu turned to Harry, blue eye closed, and nodded.

"It's from my planet. It was destroyed a couple million years ago…" He sighed again as Harry seemed at a loss to what to say to that…

"Erin…" Galaxy muttered, staring about in sheer amazement at what he knew was one of the rarest sights in the world, memorizing everything he saw…

"Don't worry" Stingchu said, chuckling at Harry's obvious emotional turmoil "I don't mind so much. My family was gone long before then, and it's not so bad since I can just recreate the old plants whenever I wish. They, like all the other plants I've touched, are a part of me I will always be able to duplicate back into existence." He now looked down sternly at the young human "you know why I **can**?"

Harry made a sound somewhere between a startled choke and inquisitive squeak. "It's because I know both magic **and** biology like the back of my hand." As the two shared that moment, Galaxy, still shocked by the scenery, was the first to notice the small mental tickle into his compatriots' minds.

--

A tapping at the door interrupted their little moment and Stingchu seemed suddenly pissed. Galaxy shared his sentiments, suddenly leaping onto Harry's head and covering the back of it with his wings, hissing violently.

"Galaxy?! What the bloody hell-?!" Harry trailed off into expletives as he stumbled, trying to find some balance after the mini-dragon had nearly knocked him clean off his feet.

"Our visitor is trying to see something he ought not to." Stingchu explained for the enraged little dragon, dropping his pack and yanking out a plethora of clothing, pulling them on at top speed, and his other clothes, including the straps, all but flying off. As this was going on, Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage flew of their own volition over to one of the room's corners where it was swallowed from sight by the leaves. A bizarre scene, but since Harry couldn't see it, he had no opportunity to gape… Speaking of which, he had finally managed to yank the dragon from him enough so that he didn't have to flail around in order to balance…which made the next scene quite confusing.

Stingchu yanked on a pair of socks, a pair of combat boots, form-fitting pants, a tight, long-sleeved shirt, a ski-mask without an opening for the mouth, ski-goggles and very light, thin gloves. As a final touch, he pulled on a trench coat that zipped to the collar and the knees with silver clips following the zipper the whole way down. The last item was an equally black cloak not all that far removed from one that Harry had bought last year, if only slightly longer. All the clothes were black, and the longer Harry watched the more he failed to believe it was Stingchu at all. In fact, he was so lost in his gaze he hardly remembered Galaxy was on his head, looking like a rather silly hat, until the dragon's tail waved in his face.

"Alright, Galaxy, I get it" Harry squeezed out through gritted teeth, tugging insistently on the appendage "just don't wave it in my face, you smarmy little bastard…" Stingchu chuckled as he adjusted the fit the clothes had on his body, making sure they did not pull too tight or bunch up and then attached his katana to a loop from the black sash around his waist. As he turned to the door, Stingchu pulled his cloak on and unsheathed his sword before Harry even registered the movement, slowly approaching the door.

"All right you two, get into the corner now" Stingchu growled suddenly, pointing at the specified direction which turned out to be the same corner Harry's trunk had disappeared to a moment ago "and don't get out 'till I say so, even if you know the person knocking, no matter how much you trust them."

"Why?" Harry asked as Stingchu's discarded clothing, straps and all, shot over to the opposite corner.

"I don't like the aura behind this door. That means that you shouldn't either" he stated simply.

"C'mon Harry" Galaxy mumbled "I don't like this guy either; he's trying to mess with me too…" For a moment, Harry seemed indecisive, before giving a final tug on his 'hat's' tail. With that, Harry walked over to the corner, crouching and then tentatively scooting back into the leaves. To his shock, they scooped him up, depositing him in a miniature room, the walls and ceiling made of leaves, the floor of the same grass as before. Galaxy yelped as he lost his grip on Harry's head and plunged face-first into the longer, fluffier grass obviously there to prevent painful collision.

Strangely this grass was also a sky-blue, sending a soft glow through the room that made it possible to see. Looking around, he spotted his trunk and Hedwig's cage, which was clean as a whistle, oddly enough. The leaves rustled, parting, and a monitor popped up. It blinked a few times, before Harry was given a view of the room, from all four angles. He had to wonder if this insider's view was something Stingchu knew about or not before his curiosity got to him and he gazed at the view including the door and Stingchu.

--

As soon as Harry had disappeared into the corner, black willow branches threaded through the room, blocking the sight of the room for 6ft behind Stingchu in a circle and dimming the light a little to hide the shine from his katana if only to dull the edge of the intensity. After all, the blade was extremely fine; it was a piece of art he'd made himself only 4,000 years ago, fit to last another hundred or so millennia, like all his works. Of course it would shine.

The knocking resumed as a subtle fluttering passed over Stingchu's mental barrier. Slightly confused by the little peek the stranger had made, Stingchu returned the favor and caught the surprise that had flared when the figure discovered that he could not enter Stingchu's mind, or even collect any stray thought from it. The emanchu grinned wickedly; it seemed he had the upper hand then, if such a defense was so rare.

He hid his katana behind the other half of the doorway, cracking it open a pinch. He looked out of the crack at the concerned, yet patient-looking old man, raising an unseen brow at him sarcastically. If one thing could be said of Stingchu, it was that he was infinitely more good-natured to children or teens than most adults, not to mention astonishingly more merciful. Then again, a thousand lifetimes of living had turned him into a being of extremes…

"Yes?" He asked, faking a slight Transylvanian accent (of all things), with a distinctive edge of sarcasm to it that somehow gave the impression of silent amusement. For a moment, Dumbledore just blinked; shocked he hadn't been attacked, or blasted into a trap.

"Er…I'd like to inquire on a mister Harry Potter?"

"Wait a moment…" Stingchu closed the door, biting his tongue in silent laughter before cracking it open again a full minute later. "I'm sorry, sir, but we have no Harry Potter here."

"Are you sure?" The old headmaster held the air of knowing with certainty that Harry was in the cave, but Stingchu seemed doubly sure that he wasn't.

"Oh, yes, my good sir; of the 4,687 giant ants here, not one is named Harry Potter. Were you perhaps looking for a human?" The humor behind his tone was a palpable thing, thickly rubbing sarcasm into Stingchu's voice in a way that made Harry wince; if the headmaster got insulted…

"Yes" Dumbledore's return was calm instead, beard twitching as he struggled not to chuckle.

"Oh. Sorry sir, I'll check again then…" Harry was all but crying with laughter as he realized what Stingchu was doing. Galaxy, who had even less restraint, had been roaring with laughter from the beginning… "No, sir, I'm sorry. There is no _Homo sapiens sapiens_ here that goes by that name. In fact, we are not hosting any species, resident or alien, with that name here. Good day." He then closed the door in the face of the greatest wizard on Earth…

Stingchu waited for more knocking, and then opened the door a little more. "Yeh?" He asked, using a strange accent that sounded only slightly southern American. Dumbledore seemed almost confused before asking the first question again of who he thought was a new person.

"I'd like to inquire on a mister Harry Potter?"

"Don't got 'im." Stingchu replied tersely, slightly slamming the door in his face as he blocked the mental probe from even entering the room. Another knock prompted him to open the door again "what do you waaant?" He whined, sounding beyond annoyed as he spoke through the barely opened crack.

"I know he's here" Dumbledore insisted calmly, a hand on his concealed wand now "I assure you, my sources do not lie, so bring him out here right now." Stingchu paused, opening the door enough to allot the sight of himself.

"Ah" he stated in a whisper that carried to Dumbledore's ears in a peculiar way that shocked him more than the person's attire. "So the viper tosses away the flower finally…" Stingchu's voice was now deep, steady with a deadly edge that spoke of confidence and grit that even Dumbledore was shocked by. "So, you're asking for the young cub, are you? Why do you want him?"

"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and one of many people who care for him…"

"Oh, really?" The emanchu stepped from the doorway, closed the door solidly behind him. The monitor Harry was looking into blanked for a moment before switching to an outside view that showed him everything. Watching the next scene was hard, mostly because Harry had so much respect and trust for Dumbledore, but he managed to remember Stingchu's almost omniscient wisdom, and stayed put against all instinct. "How do I know this isn't a lie?"

"You don't" Dumbledore replied, now nervous at the sight of the katana, taking his wand out slowly and holding it quietly at his side. The wood was long, a color so ambiguous that it leaned toward neither light nor dark.

"Hm…" Stingchu returned, as he settled into an attack stance, katana held up and at the ready "then, judging by the mind-fuck you tried earlier, you better run on out of here before you lose your life…" Dumbledore seemed utterly stunned by the information (and foul language) blasted at him. "No" Stingchu replied as he caught a thought passing through Dumbledore's eyes "I don't mean the katana, though that would be more appropriate. My friend will just disable you. I will return the favor you tried dealing me, and kill you with my mind." Dumbledore blanched, backing away slowly, caught in indecision. "I've raised children before. Most of them were even unwanted. I assure you that Harry is in very capable hands, jerk-weed."

"How do I know you aren't lying? How do I know if he's still even alive?" To this Stingchu returned a wicked, almost satisfied smile that seemed almost predatory…

"You don't."

--

"I'm not so sure you should have done that" Harry finally said to Stingchu, who had long since removed the mask and goggles, mussing the static from his hair.

"Yeah, right. The energy levels on that old prune are so old I wouldn't **spit** in the direction of his strongest attacks." Regardless of the attempt made to fix it, the hair stuck right back up in all directions, resilient against its master's half-hearted desire.

"Nice hair" Galaxy drawled sarcastically "you look like you got into a fight with a harassed comb."

"Yeah, well believe it or not I won." Stingchu returned, with an even more sarcastic smile on his face than in his tone. Harry tamped down an amused snort.

"Well, anyway, I hope you know that was Dumbledore…you know…the headmaster of Hogwarts?" Stingchu paused, stared at him, and then stared at the ceiling for a few moments, the oddest expression on his face…

"Hmph…" he finally grunted "what an old geezer. He smells like a fart that's been held in too long. No wonder he's a bureaucrat." Harry burst into laughter at that, unable to disagree with the amusing nature of his insane humor. The emanchu just smiled toothily, taking off the gloves.

--

The next month was the hardest of Harry's life, intellectually and physically. Stingchu had first found out what the boy knew of basic academia, and then griped in disgust at Hogwarts' curriculum, rather 'dummiculum' as he'd called it, and set him on a strict learning schedule. At the same time, he'd set Harry on a physical regimen involving 'conditioning' as he'd called it.

Every day, Stingchu would wake the boy at the crack of dawn and pull him into a morning jog through the thick shrubbery. Every morning, Harry would struggle to follow the emanchu's instruction on proper jogging, watching the numerous scars on the emanchu's back stretch and contract for a straight hour. Then, they'd head back into the cave for breakfast. After a delicious breakfast, which was made with simultaneous cooking lessons, Stingchu pulled books from the leaves (Oo okaay...) and began instructing Harry on one of his new favorite subjects…

Whenever teaching a human, child or not, magic, Stingchu knew that it was best to start with teaching the mind about the body, then the body itself. So, he was instructing the young Vizor on basic biology. The boy was obviously not a regular scholar, unsurprisingly, so it wasn't until some time after they'd begun that he began putting some of his own input into his studies. The emanchu usually had to shove him to bed with the threat of a longer morning jog to pry him away from the books after that, though Galaxy usually managed to succeed where the emanchu failed. It seemed that the little dragon could be a cold-blooded manipulator when he wanted to.

After a few hours of studying, however, there was a large period before dinner during which Stingchu furthered Harry's conditioning. Not only did he teach Harry to do his first proper push up, but crunches, sit ups, chin ups, and an infinitely larger plethora of exercises were employed. Afterwards, he'd move on to the shower while Stingchu prepared dinner.

Dinner was Harry's favorite time so far, if only because Stingchu cooked only emanchu cuisine. Though he warned Harry not to ask for a menu, the emanchu made it clear he would cook what was good for the boy and what Harry liked as well. So, every night, there were three dishes on the table. Harry would always try them all, but the emanchu took particular care to which the boy like the most, a mental list slowly building up in his head as the days passed. The last hour before bed was spent in front of the fireplace, where Harry discovered something very surprising about his new teacher…

Every night, Stingchu would take out a ball of yarn, sometimes the same as the one before, and would knit. Yes; knit. At first, Harry had been both amused and astonished that someone who seemed as rough and strange as Stingchu would like to do something as sensitive as knit, but it seemed to come naturally to him, so Harry decided not to question it. Galaxy had not been so tactful and nearly had his head chopped off after calling Stingchu a 'gramma', especially after that rocking chair quip…

The second night, Hedwig arrived, looking a little concerned as she spotted Stingchu, but when the emanchu allowed her in, her worries were quelled. The emanchu had, after all, freed her, and apparently had done the same for Harry. With her arrival came more letters from Ron and Hermione, and Harry now managed to reconnect with his friends over the course of a few days through a pair of explanatory letters, though he made no mention of who **exactly** Stingchu was. He spent the fireplace part of his nights either reading the letters or one of the many biology textbooks Stingchu made a point of leaving around the cave floor.

After just the first week, the change in young Harry was more and more apparent. He was much more relaxed now, focused and appeared more confident. To compliment that confidence was an array of muscles that often received pleasant attention from his new clothes. Stingchu had tailored the entire wardrobe himself, making sure that Harry had everything from shirts to boots (which he claimed were more useful in a fight) and everything in between and more. The fiber was very soft, but appeared to be very durable. Stingchu himself wore several pairs of jeans, the first pair less often before he'd gotten around to washing them, and it seemed to be the only thing he had on besides underwear. Harry had asked him about it, but always received a different answer every time, and none were ever predictable, not to mention the level of unnecessary information he was given every time he asked. It gave Harry a feeling the emanchu really liked his privacy…

After the first week, this change only increased as Stingchu decided to start his martial arts training. He started with karate, paying close attention to Harry's body type as he mentally rifled through branches of fighting styles over the last week. A week after he'd been rescued from his aunt and uncle's, Harry learned how to throw his first punch. This, in and of itself, was a great achievement for him. Harry had always been the one to be bullied after all; knowing how to cause any kind of damage was a life-changing experience… However, Stingchu made it a point to make sure never to get into a fight when he was angry. The emanchu set a strict code for Harry in terms of martial arts; never attack, only defend.

At first, Harry didn't quite understand. Although he knew fighting was wrong, he still didn't know what there was to be so serious about in terms of fighting through the use of karate. That was before Stingchu showed him the mannequin. Made of a wood frame and sand bags, the mannequin somewhat resembled a human body, a smiley face painted on the bag representing the head. Stingchu then showed him exactly what an elbow to the face could do in karate when executed properly. Needless to say, Harry didn't question Stingchu's motives anymore when the emanchu ended up repairing the dismembered and (if it was human) quadriplegic mannequin instead of knitting that night.

In the academic field, Stingchu had also begun teaching Harry more in depth biology, pointing out the field of anatomy more as his karate studies continued. He promised, however, that they would go back later to study the body's physiology. Strangely enough, Harry felt himself looking forward to it…when he mentioned this to Galaxy; the little dragon had burst into fits of hysterical laughter. He never even bothered to tell Harry why until later, and it was only at the moment Harry regretted ever asking.

--

Author's Notes: What do ya think? Better, more fun? Anyway, it might seem shorter, but that's only because I had to find a good place to chop it off. Even more stuff happens next, so bear with me! Supportive, but critical reviews are appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Here's another rapid-fire chapter. There's more story development here and a precursor to a little lone-gun behavior from our favorite alien. Enjoy, but not too much!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine...WAAAH!

--

It was August the 13th when Harry received his letter from Hogwarts at which time he realized he didn't know any way to get to Diagon Alley other than the Leaky Cauldron… Add to the fact that he didn't exactly know where he was…it was an awkward situation that he immediately brought to Stingchu's attention.

"Well" Galaxy chirped from one of the fireplace chairs "if you ask me, you're as screwed as it gets…" Harry snorted, rolling his eyes at the obnoxiously lazy attitude but knowing better than to respond as Stingchu's brow furrowed, sinking into deep contemplation.

"I'm gonna go have a smoke" he finally said. Harry nodded absently as the emanchu headed outside, knowing there'd be no less than three answers upon his return. It was always that way when he stepped outside for that reason.

"I'm amazed he isn't dead" Galaxy commented when Stingchu closed the door behind him "those cigarettes aren't for the casual user, ya know?" Harry shot him a short, confused glance, placing down his book, and then rubbing his eyes. He was getting a bit tired…

"What do you mean?"

"You know what he smells like when he comes back in." Galaxy returned "those things are radioactive bombs in a small, flammable stick." Harry shrugged at the thought of the dangerous habit, a bit unsettled as he realized the accuracy of the observation.

"Well he hasn't died yet, right?" He asked "that's got to count for something, doesn't it?" Galaxy blinked, startled at the reply, and then snorted, tucking his head back into his wings and indicating he was ready to resume his cat nap.

--

"Alright" Stingchu said, closing the door "I've got our options."

"Well?"

"First of all, do you want me to stick around or not?" Harry gave him an almost insulted look "hey, I'm just askin'. Some of my adopted kids could barely stand me, in fact most of them started losing the patience to stand me once they started growing up. I know I'm annoying."

"Well, **I **think you're brilliant; I **want** you to stick around. Who else would teach me about cellular diffusion? Now, get on with it." Stingchu paused a moment, a funny expression on his face, before shaking his head.

"Well, if I'm gonna be around, we have a lot less options. The first and least likely to succeed is to find Hogwarts. I doubt I want to spend a couple months wading through all sorts of energy field jargon and static though, so no. Next, we send that Dumbo guy a letter-"

"Dumbledore" Harry automatically corrected.

"Yes. That's what I said 'Dumb-Bore'." Galaxy snorted in amusement at the persistence of the emanchu's sarcasm but otherwise gave no indications of being awake. "Well, anyway, we get the old fart to give us directions or somethin'."

"I doubt he's going to help you after that threat you gave him back at the beginning of summer…" Harry deadpanned, giving the emanchu a sarcastic, slightly critical glare that almost perfectly mimicked the one he'd often received from Stingchu when speaking vaguely. The emanchu merely returned a raspberry to his charge.

"He deserved it; you didn't know how to defend your mind before, so he could do whatever he wanted. That's not fair." He smirked, crossing his arms across his chest "I'd love to see any of those old geezers at your 'skay-ool' even try messing with your mind. I'll step in and…" He trailed off, a sinister smile creeping onto his face as he envisioned the perfect plan in his head.

"Hello?" Harry flicked one of the long, wolf-like ears on the emanchu's head, effectively snapping him out of his daydream "stay on topic, will you?"

"Eh? Oh….riiight…" He nodded "well, then the only other ways are to contact either Hagrid, Ron or Hermione…or all of them, now that I think of it…hm…"

"Maybe we should tell them about you…the **real** you…" Stingchu was silent a moment, then stared off into the distance.

"How would Ron react?" Harry seemed surprised that the emanchu asked, but thought about it none the less.

"Hm…well, he'd first think it was some sort of amazing trick, then he'd think you were an experiment gone wrong, and then he'd go knackers I guess…" Stingchu nodded.

"How about Hermione?"

"To tell the truth…" he sighed heavily "I've no idea…"

"Well, then that's out, I guess. As fun as it is to freak people out, I don't have the luxury to do so at the present. So, I remain a mystery. Hm…well, I guess I'll just have to wear my disguise around for a long bit…"

"Won't it get awfully hot in the summer?" Stingchu shrugged.

"Beats leavin' you to the wolves, kid" he replied. "Well, I guess that settles it. We better call Ron up…or better we go straight to the parents for this one…" He seemed troubled a moment. "Eh, I hate dealing with serious adult-people. Bleh!" He turned to Harry, sighing "you better write an SOS to Ron's mum and dad…" Harry snorted, already halfway through writing the said letter. "Heeeeey…" the emanchu pouted "are you trying to tell me something?" A short bark of laughter was his response, and he stomped away childishly, pouting as he plopped down in front of the fireplace, cross-legged with his ears turned downward.

--

Harry took great care to wrap the letter tightly around the ball, having made sure for 20 times already that he'd described the instructions carefully. Tying it to Hedwig's ankle, he told her not to let anyone but one of the Weasleys even touch the letter and then returned to the cave.

"When should we expect them?" Stingchu asked, leaning against the leaves of the cave, a satisfied smile quirking the scar coming up from his chin a bit, kind of like a dimple but not really.

"I asked them to write a return letter telling us when they'll arrive…"

"Alright" he nodded "let's train this afternoon for a change." He rolled his shoulders "something tells me we'll be doing less of it where we're going."

--

Hedwig returned that evening with the Weasleys' response. He was slightly surprised by the fact that it had said that they would arrive by midnight, with Ron no less, especially considering that they might have a long way to go. He'd thought it strange that they would choose to come so quickly, but Stingchu commented on 'an old fart with too many colons to its name.' It was an amusing statement that nearly had Harry's side splitting despite the seriousness of the implication. Galaxy had only added to the joke, sleepily mentioning something about beans, which had been enough to get a laugh from Stingchu. Nonetheless, Stingchu had him pack early. After dinner, they spent a slightly extended time in front of the fireplace, sipping a mug of some strange alien drink. Stingchu had already put on most of his disguise, but had left the goggles and mask off…for now.

"What'll they do about you?" Stingchu stared at the younger boy a moment.

"They won't be happy" he finally said, smirking in a way only he knew how. "Then again, what's new?"

"I take it you've done this before?" Galaxy asked, now fully awake. "You seem entirely too happy to be moving" the dragon commented sharply "are you really that eager to get moving?" Stingchu merely stared at the dragon, quirking a brow, before staring at the ceiling. One long pause later, Galaxy snorted as he realized he wasn't going to get an answer and glanced at the clock. "We have twenty minutes" he warned "better get everything together…" Harry guzzled down the rest of his drink at the mention, giving it to Stingchu, who'd by now emerged from his trance.

Later, Harry was given the oddest, yet most welcome surprise when he realized that he could lift his trunk with relatively little trouble now, even disregarding the large amount of additional science books he'd stuffed in there. He smiled at the realization as he admired the new muscle he'd built; he'd always been weak and thin as a reed. It was a welcome change, he realized, as he walked back into the cave after depositing both it and Hedwig's empty cage outside. Hedwig had been released earlier, told to go back to Ron's home.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" He asked, walking over to the corner from where he heard Stingchu's voice resonate.

"You want to keep some of the leaves or something?" He asked "I've gotta undo all the scenery here, so…"

"Yeah!" Harry called back "just give me a minute!!" Did he want to keep an alien leaf? Heck, yes!

"Hey, wait a minute, Rambo!" Stingchu returned "you should know; those leaves don't have to be stored between pages. Just stuff 'em in a pair of those yucky sweat socks your dumb relations gave you." Harry nodded as he sprinted back out then in and began rifling through the wall, looking for a couple nice-looking leaves to pluck. In the end, he chose a handful of the thin, ebony ones, a couple of the light-colored ones from the top, and a large amount of the crystalloid leaves. "Whoa" Stingchu commented "you really like those, don't you?"

Harry turned to see Stingchu standing, a bit surprised, and staring at him in amusement. He blushed, looking down at the shimmering leaves "go ahead, I don't mind kiddo…" Truthfully, Harry was grateful. These past few weeks, the cave had seemed more of a home to him than the Dursleys' house and even Hogwarts could ever hope to. Both the feeling of the jungle constantly surrounding him and the amazing rustling made by them, what Stingchu had somewhat weakly told him was caused by artificial wind, was so peaceful during the night that he couldn't hope to have asked for a better summer home.

Eventually, Harry packed the leaves in his trunk, double-checking the rooms for anything he might've left behind before turning back to Stingchu, who had just stuffed the rest of his usual clothing in his pack and was pulling on his goggles, the ski mask already covering the rest of his head. Harry sighed; it would be pretty disappointing to not be able to tell what his guardian was thinking now that his face was hidden… "Come on, now" Stingchu said merrily, noticing Harry's disgruntled attitude "we have ten minutes left…"

"Actually" Galaxy remarked, startling them both as he jumped down from the ceiling "we have eight."

--

Stingchu seemed to almost tense in a mix of anticipation and habitual paranoia as the three Weasleys finally brushed by his mental scan, approaching at a decent speed on brooms. "Here they are" Stingchu said loudly, so Harry could here, and pointed a finger at the sky. From the digit, a bright flash of light burst into existence, narrowing into a beam and piercing the night sky.

"Oh, hey, I just remembered" Harry started, looking over at the dragon on his shoulder "what do we do about Galaxy?" As Galaxy emitted an offended squawk, most likely at the thought of being overlooked, Stingchu turned to him, and Harry could all but sense the raised brow behind the goggles.

"Nothing" he replied "hell, it might even be amusing to see the looks on their faces…" Galaxy chuckled at the thought.  
"Don't worry about it Harry" the dragon said, though he still seemed rather bothered by being forgotten "it's not like they can kill me for living."

--

"Harry!!" Ron was first to land, almost stumbling, as he ran over to his best friend. Galaxy squawked in irritation, leaping off his master's shoulder as Ron picked his best friend up into a bear hug.

"Ron-oof!!" Was all Harry got out, earning an amused snort from Stingchu, who was staring at the reunion with a great deal of amusement. "Ron, put me down already, you're acting like Hermione!"

"Sorry" he mumbled, his ears turning slightly pink "but you know once we heard from Dumbledore and all, we were worried…"

"Eh? What, did Dumb-bore think I was dangerous?" Stingchu interrupted, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, brother, for the last time, Stingchu" Harry grumbled "you pointed your katana at him, and then threatened to kill him through telepathy. Of course he thought you were dangerous."

"Hm…" he stared up at the sky "I hadn't noticed…I guess that is a bit creepy…" for a moment, Harry looked ready to rejoice; the eccentric alien was finally listening to logic!! "Or…" he crossed his arms over his chest "the old fart's just a yellow bastard." All that could be said was that it was lucky that the Weasley parents had finally arrived in time to distract Harry from the conniption that was threatening to drive him to some sort of violence.

"Ahem" Galaxy cleared his throat rather loudly, leaping back to Harry's shoulder and snapping the young wizard out of his murderous trance "I believe we have guests."

"What the bloody-!!"

"Ronald, language!!" Molly Weasley immediately recognized the language coming from her youngest son, and instinctively put a lid on it, effectively putting a small silence into the clearing.

"Staring is rude" Stingchu said in a plaintively, almost childishly so, innocent tone. It seemed to snap the two adults from their trance adequately enough for common formality to guide the situation.

"Er…well…how do you do?" Mr. Weasley was the first to speak, walking up to the mysterious figure and holding his hand out. For a moment, Stingchu was silent, and Arthur could almost swear he was being analyzed before, tentatively, the smaller figure took his hand, giving it a brief shake "I'm Arthur."

"I" Stingchu said dramatically, a hand in the air "am Tiberius Altein Corsicus Rex, formerly Tiberius Altein Jecovin Corsicus Rex, but I'm angry at Jecovin presently and thus am not allotting him the honor of having his name part of mine." Harry, for a moment, appeared almost exasperated, but then did a palm-face as he realized that the Weasleys might very well buy the act…

"His name's Stingchu" he deadpanned "and you, cut it out" he said, pointing at his guardian accusingly.

"Heeeey" he drawled, pouting as he let go of Arthur's hand and crossed his arms over his chest, an obvious pout sneaking past the mask "why'd you spoil it?"

"Because" his charge replied, hands akimbo "for all they know you could be someone **they** know from that get-up, so better to keep the story straight, eh? I don't want to be explaining myself to everyone and their brother after this…" Stingchu seemed ready to blow a raspberry, but did an abrupt about-face instead and stuck his nose in the air, a short 'hmph' sounding from him.

"Uh…son?" Arthur turned, dumbfounded, to his son "why don't you introduce us?" Ron blinked a moment, a bit lost in shock…

"Oh, yeah, this is Harry, dad." Ron replied, then continued to stare at the dragon, who was staring right back at him in a rather sarcastic manner, a predatory grin on his face.

"Hello Harry, I'm Arthur Weasley" they shook hands "I'm sure you've been told, but you look almost exactly like your father…"

"You knew my parents?"

"We both did" Molly cut in, finally ripping her gaze from Stingchu.

"Yeah, yeah; we knew them; you're like them, tell you stories, blah, blah, etc. Now" the emanchu clomped over to Harry's trunk "can we get moving?"

--

In short time, Harry's trunk was strapped to his broom, which had been removed beforehand from where Harry had stashed it. For a moment, Molly and Arthur seemed a bit surprised the young man had a broom at all, but quickly recalled their children's stories and took it in stride.

"Do you have a broom?" Mrs. Weasley asked, turning to the mysterious stranger. He seemed to abruptly notice her existence, and then shook his head in a negative fashion, picking his pack up by the strap and striding briskly to her husband.

"Hang on to it for me, will ya?" Stingchu drawled, letting the Vizor deal with the troublesome duty of strapping it in.

"Well how will you travel?" She asked, staring at the behavior in slight apprehension. At that moment, a shiver passed through the Weasley matriarch, and she could've sworn that the emanchu was giving her an evil smile behind the mask.

"I'll fly" he said airily just as a pair of wings faded into existence from either side of him, unfurling beneath the moonlight with a silvery white glow that caused them all to momentarily shield their eyes. For a moment, Harry waited for the Weasleys to stop gawking…

"Ok, if you're quite done showing off now, can we please get going?" Stingchu chuckled, before crouching and vaulting straight into the air, the wings flapping as he put himself level with the ground, letting the night air do the rest as he returned a quip of his own.

"I would, but you all have to lift off first!"

--

It was with no little amount of tension that the flight was carried out. The whole time it did go on, both of the Weasley adults kept Stingchu between them, looking immensely nervous and amazed at the same time. The emanchu took this into consideration with no slight apprehension, his chronic paranoia, the one for adults especially, began sending insane little whispers of caution and fury through his head. He eventually quelled the insanity screaming through his head; it was most likely just a result of the amount of time he was spending in the air. He hadn't flown like this in a while, and his body and mind were probably just getting their wings back. It was why he kept reminding himself not to fly into the clouds for cover…or do any loop-de-loops…

Eventually, after three straight hours of uneventful flying except for some mild drizzles that he managed to avoid through the clever application of a few bursts of energy, they arrived at the burrow. It was a huge, rather crooked house that was several stories high, a number of chimneys poking out of the roof, resembling smokestacks somewhat in their darkened color. Closing his left eye, Stingchu traced the lines of magical energy entwined within the home, snorting quietly as he recognized the complete and utter absence of any defensive barriers. If Harry planned on staying here at any other time, he'd have to change that…

"Shall we all go have a nice cup of tea, warm ourselves up?" Molly was already halfway to the house as she asked, not noticing the way Stingchu was treating his wings, stroking the feathers gently into place and carefully brushing away bits of dust. If she had seen the gentleness of the action, perhaps she wouldn't have been half as nervous about him as she was…though it might be better that she never think of him as gentle…

"What kind?" Stingchu asked as, finally, he strode over to his pack and hefted it, carefully avoiding the wing on his left as he swung it behind him. Arthur gave the emanchu a confused glance; he had trouble steering with that pack; it had to be extremely heavy for that to happen, yet the owner's handling was…

"Well, what do you suggest?" It was the first time he'd heard his wife ask for advice on cooking, and it surprised him so much he completely forgot what he was thinking about.

"Well, it's been a long night" he said "we've been rained on, and I'm sure it's more than chilly for a few of us. How about chamomile?" She paused, turning back to him.

"I was about to suggest that…" She gave him a somewhat critical glare, clucked like an approving mother hen, and headed into the kitchen.

--

"So…err…Stingchu, was it?"

"Yup" he replied "has been since I was born. At least, that's what everyone keeps telling me…" An odd look was given to the emanchu, who was facing the ceiling in slight confusion. "Hm…am I Stingchu? Or…maybe…hm…well, let's just say the answer's yes and hope we're right, shall we?" That garnered even more attention from the Weasleys than before, who were well on their way to thinking he was crazy…

"Yes, well, er…are you a wizard?" For a moment, Harry was almost nervous that the emanchu would give a yes to that answer…

"Nope; it's impossible for me to be a wizard. Oh, no sugar, please; just honey" somehow he was not distracted at all by the arrival of the tea. "I haven't got the aura or the chromosomes for it. Plus, the fact that I'm a complete and utter loon doesn't help at all." Ron choked on his tea. Fortunately for Arthur, he had not yet finished preparing his and was spared the same trouble. Harry patted his best friend on the back as Galaxy emitted a short series of amused chirps, sighing as his guardian proceeded to dig the hole deeper… "I'm not a goblin, a house elf, a squib, or even a muggle either. No, I'm much more different and far removed from what you would expect me to be…"

"You're…" Ron almost felt stupid for asking… "You're not a…a **real** elf…are you? You know, like the ones from hundreds of years ago that could do amazing magic?" A short, amused bark of laughter from his right informed him he was far from on the mark.

"I wish" Harry quipped "then maybe he'd actually act his age."

"Heeey" was the immediate protest "you don't have 'ta be so meeeaaan." The emanchu whined, crossing his arms over his chest "oh, and can I have more?" He held his tea cup out to Mrs. Weasley with both hands wrapped childishly around it. It was then that they all realized that he'd finished the liquid without being seen.

"How did you…?"

"Don't ask" Harry groaned, knowing what the answer would be.

"Erm…" Arthur seemed a bit stunned by the dry sarcasm that had been coming from the boy since they'd met, expecting the boy to be more like his father judging by his appearance, but apparently his mother had more roots in him than he'd expected… "Anyway" the older man continued "if it's not rude to ask, may we know why you're wearing all that to cover your face?" Stingchu froze in the middle of mixing honey into his tea, fingers tensing slightly as what Harry had come to recognize as the emanchu's blade-arm twitching slightly.

"I…" he sighed "I'll show you some day maybe." He finally answered "I just can't trust that yellow old bastard yet…"

"Who?"

"Professor Dumbledore" Harry supplied, looking both unsettled and saddened by the man's mention. "He-"

"He can mind-fuck anyone he feels like and doesn't worry about something as silly as morals." Molly jumped midway into the sentence, startled by the foul language. "I can't trust him not to read someone's mind whenever he wants to…" Harry stared at his tea as the emanchu's blade-arm twitched somewhat more visibly than before. Over the past weeks, he'd thought a lot about the kindly old man, who'd resembled what Harry had come to recognize as a grandfather than he'd ever expected the man to become. The reality of what Dumbledore had tried to do, could've been doing all year long last year, had been the cause of many a melancholy night, when he'd have to lie in the leaves. The entire time they'd been flying he'd wondered how he was going to sleep in a regular bed after sleeping on the leaves for so long…

--

Arthur, through some maneuvering, managed to subtly encourage Ron to show Harry his room… leaving Stingchu 'trapped' with them in the living room. For a moment, neither of the Weasley adults seemed to do much of anything, staring at him in indecision as he fixed a third cup of tea for himself. Stingchu himself, outwardly, did not seem to notice, but within his mind, the smile was wicked and he watched from behind the goggles as they slowly came to a decision.

"Now, we don't really know who you are" Arthur began "and we don't know what you're trying to do, but if it's got anything to do against Dumbledore-" The small, yet humorous snort stopped the Weasley patriarch in his tracks.

"You put much fate in a simple human…much less an old man." The tone was something almost familiar, but more chilling. In truth, it reminded Arthur a little of Lucius, which put even more mistrust in his mind for the man in front of him. "I would think that a society with so many…" he almost seemed to laugh, shoulders trembling "advancements…that a society like this would still **not** trust that much in women." He sighed, though a bit lightly, as if pitying them both "well, I suppose it's not your fault; after all I'm sure you'll all turn around quite nicely once you fully lynch the aristocratic bastards clinging to the land of the living."

To say that the little speech was disturbing would've been an understatement in the fullest respect. Then again, everything about the person in front of them had been strange from the moment they'd met. "Yes, it would be nice…" he muttered softly, a deep baritone meshing over his voice again as he thought of another possible future for the society he was in. "Nice to see…but probably won't be seen…"

"Er…Stingchu…sir?"

"Eh?" It was like he'd just snapped out of a trance… "Bleh, not like that'll really happen anyway." He commented mysteriously, waving a hand at them dismissively. "Well, now I need to ask a favor…"

--

"Harry?" Stingchu's voice at his door stopped the conversation that they were having and, as the emanchu walked in, Harry could tell it was important enough for their conversation to wait.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna go run around for a few days, mess with things. Do you mind staying here with the Weasleys without me a couple days?" Harry smiled at him sarcastically.

"Are you being serious?" He asked, receiving a plaintive nod that told him his guardian was, indeed, being serious. "No, it's not a problem" he said honestly, a small flash of concern creeping into his voice as the smile was wiped from his face "what are you going to be doing, anyway?"

"Oh, just messing with the system" he replied, though Harry knew he had to be smiling one of those crazier grins behind his mask. "I'll be back before the week is out, so here" he dug around his pocket for a few minutes before producing a plain-looking silver ring and handing it over.

"What is it?" Harry asked, knowing that even something so ordinary-looking had to be something else if it came from his guardian.

"It's a wake-up call; it might sting a little, but it's guaranteed to work 'till you're awake. I set it for eight; I don't want you to slack off while I'm gone, but I don't want you to overdo it either, so it's a bit later than usual."

"Later?" Ron squeaked, obviously thinking 8 in the morning was more than early during the summer.

"Yes" Stingchu said plainly "I'd rather he was waking up at 5 like usual, so that the air is nice and cool, but I don't want him to overdo anything; I won't be able to teach him new stuff if he does."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well" Harry cut in "you see, Stingchu and I wake up in the morning to do some jogging. Usually he wakes me up early so that we can spar later, but since he won't be here…" he shrugged at Ron's half incredulous, half confused look.

"Well, anywho, here" Stingchu handed him two other books "it's a book of katas in case you forget anything and the next book on biology in case you finish the recent one you've got." Harry nodded, accepting the books and tossing them on the bed.

"So what are you **really** going to do?" He asked his guardian, giving him a sarcastic, wry grin.

"Well" he began "you know how I was reading some of those history books of yours?" Harry nodded, confused by where things were going "well I'm going to make every place owned by the government seem very interesting to the magical community's little eyeballs."

"Stingchu" the tone in Harry's voice made Stingchu cringe "you better not be planning homicide."

"Oh, no" he answered calmly, escaping a lecture "just theft, public defamation, and several varying degrees of assault and battery depending on the target involved." Again, Harry could tell his guardian's grin had gone a bit mad again, and he had to firmly rope the nutty emanchu back to Earth.

"Don't go doing anything too extreme…and don't steal anything personal to someone; only stuff they keep for value or something like that."

"Harry" the tone behind Stingchu's voice was strangely sweet, setting off alarms in the young Vizor's head "would I do things that are that reckless?"

"Yes" Galaxy deadpanned from Harry's feet "in fact, you'd do more dangerous and more reckless than any of those things put together."

"Heeeeyyy…" Stingchu drawled as Ron stared at the little dragon again, still shocked by its ability to speak as well as its existence… Galaxy, sensing he was being stared at, turned to glare at Ron. After a moment, an evil little grin stretched the dragon's features as he spoke.

"I'll eat your tighty-whities while you're asleep…"

--

The adjective 'extreme' when applied to actions, at least between Stingchu and Harry, meant murder of any kind or level, destruction of property on the larger scale, and causing widespread panic in any way. Both had agreed that these measures were to be avoided unless absolutely necessary, and as of yet they were not. Anything else of a mischievous nature, however, other than the clause Harry had just written him on theft, was game, and Stingchu felt rather playful as he bid the Weasleys a rather brief good bye and a final warning about what he'd do if something happened to young Harry while he was gone. The mention of chainsaws and what could be done with them in the hands of a skilled user was often enough to persuade anyone.

--

Author's Notes: There you go, another chapter. Hope it's not anything too boring or bland. As always, review judiciously!


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Here we have the beginning of Stingchu's lone-gunman-type adventure. This little section should last until about chapter 5 or 6 with our favorite, lovable alien as the star. I'm also introducing a new main character, but don't be fooled; it's not who you think it will be and is not the obvious choice either. Bet you can't guess who it's gonna be! To clear something up, another character, a supporting character, is also entering our story, so try and see if you can pick 'em out! In any case, enjoy the show; I give you chapter 4.

Disclaimer: Today, we have my good friend Prophet Chrono presenting our disclaimer! Prophet?

Prophet: ...why do I have to say that you have no ownership of Harry Potter?

Me: Because we'll get sued if you don't!!

Prophet: I meant...why **me**?

--

Stingchu had at first been slightly amused by the several little tricks that the Vizors of this Earth had managed to think up to stay hidden. After examining them further, however, he was quickly disappointed, not to mention slightly disgusted when he quite easily duplicated the process (of course at a much smaller scale). Leafing through Harry's school books was also enough to make him sickened by the entirety of the magical knowledge the Vizors had managed to amass or even create. Honestly, he could barely call them even Vizors anymore, with the depth to which his opinion had fallen.

In the definition of the modern inter-domainal society of Omnivei, the only one currently existing, a wizard was a creature of medium to high magical ability that could manipulate energy in a large variety of ways and also of typically medium physical ability, usually a result of its magical ability supplemented by rigorous physical training. The definition continued to say that wizards always started out as Vizors and had to undergo some kind of ritualistic ceremony in which their powers would be significantly altered both in strength and flexibility and be able to be manipulated in a variety of ways previously all but impossible to be considered wizards.

So far, the only wizards he could find on the whole planet went by the names of Merlin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. They were, apparently, the revolutionaries in the field of magic on their current planet, other than the Nicholas Flamel character Harry had told him about, who'd apparently been the first and only Vizor as of yet to delve into the tricky world of alchemy and even then, he was hesitant to include him. Then again, it appeared that no Vizor as of yet was insane, functional and smart enough at the same time to try anything serious; after all, it was a dangerous-as-Hell art. The only reason Stingchu liked it was because his regenerative abilities negated the serious nature of the loss of limbs, which was more often than not necessary, if not accidental, in the magic-science crossroads.

Other than the 6 mentioned, he had so far found none coming close to being of the caliber of wizard, even the Dumbledore and Voldemort characters, who were much too preoccupied fretting over the value of human lives, as in whether all deserved life or just some. Stingchu had long since discarded such petty reasoning; he no longer gave a shit about whether or not people deserved to die and, in fact, often thought they were lucky to be able to leave living behind and just keel over. Some people died, some didn't - who cared who didn't and who did? It just happens - just like the sun rises on a daily basis.

In other matters, there was no justification for murder; if the murderer believed it was a no-no, there was no way to turn around and say it was justified. That was just stupid and, in the end, futile. Living to his age he knew those ideals were for younglings that would not live past a century, not for those like himself. For him, such beliefs were stupid and pointless since they did nothing but bring on depression and self-pity which were never fun. When he had considered the subject of his own mortality he'd decided many millennia ago that he better damn well have some fun at it if it was behaving the way it was. These were his thoughts as he entered Gringotts, fully prepared to get a very well-guarded vault in which to store a little of the pure gold he was carrying in from the last few dimensions...as well as make a few new friends...

--

The reaction on the goblin's face when he told him exactly how much of what type of valuable article he'd be depositing was nothing short of priceless, but was quickly replaced by something more professional. He was then asked if he wished to speak to an account specialist. After Stingchu happily replied, he was lead to a well-rounded old goblin named Rookgrim who seemed to be at the top of the food chain if the real gold frames of his lenses implied anything.

"Good evening sir" Stingchu said, playing it safe with polite jargon. He actually liked goblins, mostly due to their particularly vindictive natures which usually drove others away and often made it a point to befriend every one he met, especially since he liked them more than most humanoid species. "I hope my arrival has not disturbed you from your regular business - or from sleep."

"I was informed of your name and intents through a courier as I was dressing for business" the goblin replied, peering at him in suspicion "however I do not expect to be able to help you if I do not know how you look…"

"Ah, yes, that. There are certain…complications…to allowing my appearance to be divulged as of yet, unless you were to agree to a contract of sorts…"

"What kind of contract?" Stingchu grinned behind the mask gently, pulling a scroll from an inside, hidden pocket in his cloak, unrolling it with a flourish.

"It states everything quite simply." The goblin accepted the scroll, adjusting his glasses briefly before reading aloud…

"I swear upon my blood, body and soul, to not divulge the physical appearance of one Stingchu Alichae Dragona, disguised or otherwise, unless given express permission by said party otherwise accepting due punishment. Pursuant to agreeing to this contract, I also accept the knowledge that it can drive to insanity any being attempting to obtain knowledge of said party's appearance through any form of mind reading or mental and/or physical torture by performing said acts upon myself. The burden of this contract is accepted gladly and willingly by myself and shall be signed in both ink and blood."

The aging goblin looked up over his glasses at Stingchu who was obviously staring back in a manner that was both quite frank and serious. "This contract" the goblin spoke up "basically says that if I tell anyone of your appearance I shall regret it and also" he glanced down at it "that if anyone tries to force it out of me they will regret it."

"Yes it does" Stingchu replied "although I am sure you would not willingly give up this information, certain people in this world possess the ability to steal knowledge they should not be able to obtain. If they attempt such an act of theft they shall never be able to relinquish fear from their minds again. They will also be unable to think of much else other than eating, sleeping and shitting for the rest of their lives." The goblin seemed to think for a moment, before smiling wickedly, his features twisting in a way that was both horrifyingly frightening and (in a maddening way) reassuring as the idea of that type of power became very pleasing.

"Well then, Mister Dragona, I believe I have a contract to sign."

--

The signed contract was taken by another goblin to Rookgrim's own personal vault for safekeeping before, finally, the two moved to a secure room where, Stingchu was assured, he could not be seen by anyone else. He turned around before removing his goggles and mask, then removed his cloak and trench coat, leaving his head and tail exposed and in full view of the portly goblin, who went very, very still as Stingchu turned to offer him a view of his mismatched eyes and facial scars, patting down his fiery hair as his ears twitched irritably.

"I hope you forgive the appearance of my hair; it is an unfortunate side effect of the mask, and one that is not quite so simple to remedy as the effects of the goggles." He commented as he casually sat down across from the goblin, laying the articles of clothing on the table between them. He was still squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sudden absence of the darkened lenses when Rookgrim spoke up again.

"I see" the goblin replied "the extremity of irregularity in your appearance explains your cautious preparation. If I may ask of the origins of your disfigurements? A great battle, perhaps?"

"My scars are from several battles mostly" he replied "though my eyes were quite unfortunately lost too many times to save and had to be replaced. Quite unfortunate really; they were the most wonderful shade of green. As for the rest of my appearance, almost all but the color is much the same as when I'd first come into life, hard as it is to believe. My own origins I will leave it a secret until I determine I feel like divulging them."

"On to business then, Mister Dragona" the goblin said quite politely, switching the subject as he sensed the slightly disturbed emotions coming from his new client "I believe you had some interest in setting up a personal account here at Gringotts? Is there any special vault or special protection you feel necessary to put in place in order to protect your treasures?"

--

There had not been a happier goblin in centuries Stingchu was sure as he handed over the last clump of gold he was relinquishing from his bag. Though there was much more left, he'd decided to leave only a small fraction, which it turned out was even more valuable in this world than the one he'd procured it from. In fact, he'd had the value converted to several billion in galleons, set up in one of their top-security vaults, guarded by a dragon, specifically a Japanese Treasure Lover which was, even in other dimensions, the only dragon you'd never want to tangle with over gold, even if you were as completely insane over gold as it.

As he left, he also warned the goblin of Voldemort's return, bowling Rookgrim over with his frankness as he stated that people were obviously much stupider than goblins if Voldemort's little appearance at the school had been dismissed by the government so easily. The goblin fully agreed, though, with his advice and immediately ordered one of the messenger goblins to send out owls to organize a meeting of the other head goblins of Gringotts. In short, Stingchu had managed to rally the entire society of goblins to his side in just under three hours…again. After all, goblins were not very hard to get along with once shown respect and common decency, which was more than this society seemed willing or able to give them…

--

It was almost 5 in the morning by the time Stingchu finished at Gringott's and headed out to his next expedition. He'd slept last night just to be able to embark on his next journey, and was quite pleased with the knowledge that the extra boost of energy would allow him to skip breakfast for the next two days and stay awake for at least the next two weeks before his reflexes began to dull. Checking the humidity with a brief, sharp sniff and gazing critically at the sky, he calculated the probable time of sunrise and turned down Knockturn alley, somewhat intrigued by the twisted nature of the auras emanating from its shops, which were open all night for a reason made clear by a vampire exiting one at the end of it, his species given away by the faint odor of grave rot clinging to him.

Almost 10 minutes later, Stingchu had stolen the most powerful and most useful dark artifacts the alley held and was currently in the process of buying the only one he wasn't stupid enough to think he could get away with; it was the most powerful one of the entire steal - a gauntlet he recognized from several books as being extremely useful, if hard to take off…well, if he ever did need it removed, he had no problems with chopping off an arm. After all, it wasn't as if it wouldn't grow back or that he'd never done so before, and his right hand had never been quite as useful as his left when it came to magic, so this would actually be a step up regardless of the nuisance being unable to remove it would impose. As for the 'voices in your head' bit, he'd been dealing with that since long before the gauntlet had been created, so this was not a problem.

Afterwards, Stingchu had paid a visit to the alley's flipside version of the Magical Menagerie, The Devil's Stable. It smelled abominably to Stingchu's nose, but he suppressed the slight nausea easily and stepped casually across the threshold, examining the sleeping animals first. There was a multitude of animals that looked somewhat like dragons in the barn, colored in mostly dark scales and probably, if he had to venture a guess, were all drakes, but not dragons, although there were some preserved dragon eggs for sale that could be brought to life, as the plaque beneath claimed, by tossing them into a brick oven. Both were passed off by the emanchu, who was used to dragons, especially those that could not communicate like Galaxy. Even Galaxy did not really attract his attention, since the little thing was not quite like one of his comrades, a certain humanoid sniper with dark green scales that flared to orange when Stingchu was busy pissing him off…

There were other creatures in glass cages (some of them well-insulated) containing pale gray serpents that glared at him with shining red eyes. They turned away, however, when they felt the gaze from his own red eye, and shivered slightly despite the constant heat they provided. Stingchu was slightly intrigued by the blue glow only he could see surrounding them; it was quite similar to the glow around his own body, though his was white. It made him slightly disturbed to know this, and he had to turn away from them rather quickly to keep himself from killing them all and sparing them from what he expected awaited them.

Several of the larger cages held other snake-like creatures that were much longer, their scales ranging from a darker brown to a dark tan color and even a few reddish-brown colors with feathered, silvery wings growing from the middle of their bodies. Most of them were asleep, though some were staring at one another in a state of groggy hostility. He was rather amused by them as their behavior reminded of Leana when she was too tired to smack him and/or smash his face in with either her fists or a gravity spell, which she was using a lot of lately. His face still tingled sometimes with the memory; a recent one had been powerful enough to slam him through a steel wall…

The largest of the glass cages seemed to be occupied by nothing, until Stingchu noticed a large black object on the floor of it that looked like cloth. He stared at it for quite some time however, and noticed the barely visible ripple it doled out every so often. The grin he gave made it shudder quite violently, as if it was the one time it did not want a living being close enough for it to attempt to feed on it. On the other side of the store was a tub full of fuzzy, cream-colored, brown-speckled objects that were round in shape. If not for the little ripples they were making, he would have thought them to be toys for the other creatures. Turning away, he proceeded to examine several other cages containing short, slightly raccoon-like creatures he recognized immediately as Nifflers, one of the very few animals he could identify in the shop. They were currently pawing at the cages towards him almost frantically, excited by the pure gold in his pack and the amount he was carrying.

They were the reason that the shopkeeper, an old husk of a man, was eying him with a particularly simpering grin. Stingchu gazed at several other creatures before walking up to the old man, making a small show of staring at the creature in the largest glass cage momentarily as he poked around delicately in the old man's mind for the creature's name, in the process discovering they were illegal to keep.

"I noticed the handsome Lethifold you're keeping" he commented casually, using a slight British accent and deep voice to disguise his voice. Unsurprisingly, the shopkeeper was convinced, thanking him for the compliment and asking his interest in it. "Oh, I haven't the interest in it" he replied "I'm just rather concerned that some of your less honorable clientele might not be as discreet in your ownership as others…" The old man's eyes almost popped from their sockets "you might want to move it to the back for your more…sensitive…clients…"

--

In short order, Stingchu had earned the old man's discretion and services, let into the back area to examine the merchandise, and exited with a small, black necklace that at first seemed to be made of leather. That was before the snake peeked out from behind his head, gem-like purple eyes twinkling in the dark. Stingchu grinned, stroking the scales kindly, earning a small purr from the little creature, which quickly morphed into a small black kitten that mewed up at him, amethyst eyes overjoyed at the attention as its chin was given a few affectionate scratches.

It was an Animalgum, Stingchu had learned; a creature that could morph into both magical and non-magical creatures; extremely rare and quite expensive, though Stingchu had slyly managed to trick the old man into a lower price than the abominable number on the price tag. They were not often able to change into more than a handful of shapes, but since this one was special, he'd still paid top-dollar despite the 'discount'.

The creature itself was still very little, but was already learning to change into different animals at an accelerated rate. The only animal it had not been able to copy, the shopkeeper had boasted, was the Lethifold that he was already in the process of moving via wand to the back rooms. Stingchu made a mental note as the kitten turned into a miniature winged snake, an Occamy he'd learned was their name, to come back to the shop every so often for the Animalgum's benefit…but before that, he'd show himself off for the little fellow, which was hugging him with the downy little wings, just to see if it was smart enough to act like an emanchu. Either way, he had a feeling the little creature was going to prove a valuable pet for years to come…

Turning to the store, Stingchu rubbed his hands together, muttering an incantation before discretely running a finger along the wall. For a moment, the lighting around it dimmed, then returned to normal as the charm activated. The charm would render the place impervious to harm for the next four hours; long enough for the next part of his adventure to complete itself.

--

Wizards and witches alike raced in and out of Knockturn alley, throwing up jets of summoned water at the burning buildings even as they lead others to safety. Screams filled the air as shops were burned down, though no one was killed under Stingchu's watchful eye. The night sky, already brighter by the oncoming dawn, was lit up with an ever more ferocious orange glow that had consumed it for the past 20 minutes. The only buildings that remained untouched so far were The Devil's Stable, which was removed quite a ways from the other shops and mercifully had not caught fire yet, and a small pub, the only one in the alley. He left it for those that would need a drink once the fires were put out.

Stingchu gently soothed the small kneazle in his hands, petting its black fur and cooing reassuringly even as a manic grin consumed his face, twisting and spreading the mask to a point that its existence was obvious. It did not help that the emanchu was contemplating whether or not he should just collapse in a fit of maniacal laughter.

--

Stingchu was being stared at as he skipped merrily down Diagon Alley headed for Ollivander's, singing what should've been a miserable song under his breath. Bounding happily into the shop, Stingchu crowed a greeting, scaring the wits out of a young witch getting her first wand, her parents turning sharply to glare at the interruption harshly. The emanchu stared around at the occupants, before shrugging halfheartedly and plopping down on a seat next to the witch's mother, who seemed rather horrified by his existence, especially since his unsavory outfit was also patched in soot.

Hearing a hiss, she looked toward the top of the man's hood and nearly screamed when a snake glared back at her, fangs showing. She gaped when the snake turned into a kitten that still spat at her, and her gaze, formerly disgusted, was lightened slightly when she recognized the Animalgum. The man next to her acted as if the emanchu did not exist as Ollivander proceeded, though the wand maker had first given Stingchu a long, hard look, deciding not to use Legillimency until after the witch's father, an Occlumens, had left and he could not be detected.

Stingchu's nose crinkled slightly as he felt the girl's discomfort, picking out through her natural scent evidence of her timidity and also her clever, crafty nature. She was a nice girl, an even nicer person and, apparently, did not deserve to be saddled with such ungrateful bastards for parents if what he smelled from them was correct. Ollivander, he concluded briefly, was a bastard just for smelling like two day old fish. Had he been a less subtle person he would've thrown the man in the mud puddles outside, if only to smother the scent from existence.

As she received her wand, a 10 inch long masterpiece of black ash wood and a core made of hair from the mane of a griffin collected 300 years ago, Stingchu eyed the very brief, almost unnoticeable trace of approval on her parents' faces. He felt the urge to behead them and adopt the girl when sensing the palpable 'finally, she does _something_ right' atmosphere, but remembered that the scene might traumatize the poor thing too much and decided to wait instead as he watched the three walk at the door after paying for the wand. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of stalking them and slitting their throats as they slept instead, but alas Ollivander had just caught his attention.

"How may I help **you**, sir?" Ollivander asked, fish-eyes gleaming as he reached out with legillimancy and attempted to poke about Stingchu's mind with some subtlety.

"Stop trying to get in my mind" Stingchu said "or I'll rip your pecker off." To say Ollivander was shocked by the vulgarity would've been a gross understatement and the man was immediately thrust into simpering mode.

"Ah, you must forgive this old man. You see, I must protect my business from dangerous characters and with your attire I-"

"I don't give a flying fuck why" Stingchu interrupted bluntly "just keep your dirty mind away from mine, ya fuckin' rapist."

--

Stingchu had gone through several wands, to the great pain of their maker. It was proving to be a dangerous task for any wand to find itself in Stingchu's hand or, for that matter, near his energy. So far, one of the wands had exploded, another had burst into flames, another simply vanished off the face of the earth with a 'whoosh', still another ripping itself apart while a particularly flexible wand had curled into a pretzel shape before breaking into pieces. Other wands had transfigured into stone, a pretty, yet somehow ominous-looking necklace, or even ice that had melted into acid that burned through the floorboards. One had gone so far as to expunge its magical core in a manner not that far removed from throwing up, the heartstrings that made it up brought back to life to beat on the wooden floor sickeningly until Ollivander Vanished them.

As if that was not enough, one of the wands he'd waved earlier had emitted a series of lightning bolts powerful enough to destroy all the chairs, mirrors, vases, and desks in the shop in addition to shredding all the flowers to pieces and singing the carpets. A small crowd had already gathered at the front of the shop, watching as Stingchu tried out another wand, which emitted a screaming noise not at all like a banshee's wail that made everyone in hearing range cringe until he threw it from him, shouting obscenities in his native language until the ringing in his ears receded.

The next wand was somehow worse in a way; it sprouted arms and legs, jumped out of Stingchu's hand, conjured a small axe, and then proceeded to destroy itself. Stingchu's following question, whether or not there was a real spell that could make someone's wand do that, nearly had Ollivander screaming in frustration as he finally headed to the very back of the store and retrieved a small metal case that seemed so dusty and rusted that it should have belonged in a museum.

"Pliable yet firm structure, wood taken from the extinct Tinder Oak 600 years ago with a magical core made of the tail feathers of an unknown creature described in ancient times as a Quetzalcoatl, collected 2000 years ago. It is unknown what the true properties of this wand are; it is a subject that most wand makers involved in its making and most not have been questioning for ages." He looked up at Stingchu "this is the oldest, potentially most powerful, wand I've ever made, including that of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter combined."

The honesty of his statement was made clear when he appeared reluctant to hand it over, though he did eventually. At first nothing happened, other than the slight vibration under the emanchu's fingers. "Well" Ollivander said nervously "give it a wave."

Doing as he asked, Stingchu was pleasantly surprised as a faint, haunting roar echoed from the wood and the brief, smoky image of a feathered, winged, dragon-like creature snaked from his wand and through the room, marking its core as a bona fide feather of a Quetzalcoatl. Pleased, Stingchu gladly paid the 50 galleons, enjoying the ferocious yet tranquil aura coming from the wand as he tucked it into a wand holster he'd bought earlier, fitting it right next to his katana. He'd never used a wand to do magic before, but he had a feeling it would be kind of fun, even if he didn't need one anyway…

--

Stingchu attacked Flourish and Blotts's with a vengeance, skimming through each and every book one in the store one by one before seating himself at the small café within to go over every page he'd seen with his photographic memory. At times, he almost appreciated the fact that he had a Panasonic for a memory…often he'd have to remind himself of the downfalls of such an excellent memory immediately afterwards, especially when he began losing his mind again and was speedily reminded of why immortality also sucked balls.

Soon, he'd determined that only 15 of the thousand or so books in the entire store were useful, if only by the indications of their summaries. He quickly gathered his choices, tossing the items into his pack as soon as he'd paid for them and exited the store. Once he'd done to the same to the smaller, yet infinitely more interesting Obscurus Books, he was happily able to supply a further 30 books from the few hundred there that were infinitely more enjoyable and seemed to have the potential to serve wonderful dividends to himself, though he did pick up a book called '_Medical Charms: From Beginner to advanced Mediwizard_' for Harry; he doubted the little Vizor would ever reach a proficiency that dictated he'd be able to heal without a wand, and he didn't want the young boy to lose family and friends, blaming himself for not learning a few healing charms.

He paid a visit to the junk shop as well and purchased, to his surprise, an Invisibility Cloak that no one seemed to recognize for what it was. He was still wondering who to give it to (since invisibility was boring for himself because of the excitement it took out of sneaking around) when he ordered a spirit in the Leaky Cauldron. A moment later, he was disgusted by the weak nature of the alcohol he was drinking, and took out a book to quell his frustrations over ordering such a tame brew, reaching back into his mind momentarily.

Sometimes being able to split your mind into several fragments was useful. Often, such actions would have been impossible to perform voluntarily, and would be a nearly indestructible mental condition known as multiple personality disorder, but Stingchu had found several uses for such an 'amusing' psychological condition. Currently, the newly-made personality, taken from the large pool that formed his more suspicious nature had been set to monitoring, out of the corner of his eyes and with all his hearing, his surroundings, including both the customers that visited and the gossip as he himself took out a copy of '_A Study of Psychoses, Neuroses and Other Mental Disease in Relation to Magical Energies_' by a chap named Filliam Aurescue Socarit. The few pages he remembered had been quite intriguing; it was, surprisingly, a completely new topic, one he'd never encountered, that made him think of visiting Filliam himself and having a nice, long chat about other reasons for mental problems…

The book at first seemed to directly blame the effects of large amounts of power to causing insanity, but then old Filliam started to branch out a bit. He soon had made claims in the chapters about how certain mental diseases were actually caused by how these vast magical energies aged, and of course the experiences of the magical being in question. He apparently had combined Muggle psychology in his studies, most likely the reason his book was unpopular, and related the effect of magical energy on the human body, destructive, creative or otherwise coming from internal or external sources to describe its effects on a normal person's emotions.

For examples, he used such characters as Squibs, famous witches and wizards and normal Muggles. He did not however leave himself out of the picture, relating how well he could remember the peaceful death of his mother when he was 4 to the inability of a normal Muggle to remember their mother's equally peaceful death at a slightly older age. He also described the sharpness of even a Squib's recollection of a murder they'd witnessed to a Muggle's muggy recollection of an even more horrendous murder. He'd gone as far to question several ghosts which seemed to recollect such events better than any other of the interviewed subjects.

Filliam, the clever boy, had gone even further, somehow managing to get an interview with Nicolas Flamel, the famous one-of-a-kind alchemist, to see exactly how magic affected the mind and body after 667 years. Apparently, Flamel had his share of problems, including a ridiculously possessive streak over his wife, who he'd bonded with so closely over the centuries that it was dangerous to flirt with her, especially in his presence. He also was quite intolerant of both Voldemort and Dumbledore, claiming that there were things more important than squabbling over whether being a Muggle, Squib, Muggleborn, or Pureblood was important and whether or not everyone's soul could be rescued from hell, something Filliam seemed to subtly agree with.

Overall, he was thoroughly enjoying himself, having ordered several stronger drinks and lunch as well, when the personality he'd created, briefly dubbed Black for the both the nature and color of its aura, informed him of several suspicious statements made on his behalf. Apparently, several persons had been curious, if only innocently, of his existence, but the fact that a few malicious auras and a few fishy, yet still innocent auras had taken notice and that they were in groups began to piss Black off. Stingchu swiftly agreed with the make-shift personality, paying for his food and drinks. He gulped the last of it down behind his book before shoving the volume somewhat reluctantly into his pack and shouldering the bag as he rose to his feet.

As soon as he'd moved, one of the groups immediately followed, the shadier group slinking back to the shadows. The Aurors, in their defense, did a top notch job of following him through Diagon Alley, but he was just too good at ditching shadows due to both his youth and a great deal of his adventures, and left them behind to scratch their heads in confusion in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium. Ritten, the little Animalgum he'd bought had seemed to enjoy his deception, something he made a mental note of as the creature reverted to a smallish Puffskein in his hand, emitting a sweet, lyrical bleat.

--

Stingchu had fled to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to enjoy something cool and sweet to sober up if only slightly and to monitor the Vizor society, if only surreptitiously and through the eyes and ears of Black, for a little longer. This time, however, he did not take out the book and was rather content to stare at the sky as he waited for his lemon sundae (with extra ice) to arrive. As he did so, Black monitored both the intrigued patrons of the parlor and the slightly curious waiters and waitresses for signs of suspicious behavior (a.k.a. anything from breathing to gossiping). Stingchu was rather violently ripped from his philosophizing minutes later by Black's warning of an extremely angry young Vizor swiftly approaching with his order, commenting briefly on how the patrons, especially the richer of them, seemed to laugh at the young Vizor.

"Your order, sir?" He asked with only the minimum amount of civility required, his teeth firmly gritted once he'd finished talking. For a moment, Stingchu contemplated what to say in return, and then finally spoke up.

"If I gave both you and your manager a 5000 percent tip, would you come and have a little chat with me?" To say he'd caught the young man's attention and rendered him both shocked and speechless to the point that his mind shut down would've been fairly accurate.

--

By itself, the sundae cost a single sickle. The stranger had given that as payment, and then gave the manager 300 **galleons** just to let him have the rest of the day off. In return for accompanying him for most of the day that remained, young Aaron Montague would also receive 300 galleons which, in truth, he desperately needed; after he'd run away from home, he'd found it difficult to find work to make money to live off of when not in Hogwarts and he feared he'd run out of money before being able to return for his final year, not to mention that he thought he might not have enough to pay for his robes and books; he'd long since outgrown his school robes and needed new ones plus the cost of new books…

In truth, although he'd run from his parents because of their ideas about killing Muggles just for the Hell of it, he was quick to regret giving up a cozy home so foolishly. He'd been so eager to escape his parents' clutches he hadn't thought any plans up and now, three years later, he was paying for it in spades. Not only was he in the gutter of poverty, but he still held onto some old hatreds for character weaknesses and still felt superior to Muggleborns, even if it felt wrong. As if that wasn't enough, he was beginning to hate himself for it and it was slowly but surely driving him spare, especially when he had to watch his brother travel year by year the same path his parents had set for him years ago.

At this point he was so utterly lost that he hated himself for disliking the man offering him charity. What was worse, the stranger seemed to know it, but from what Aaron could tell, did not despise him for it, which was probably why he was beginning to respect the mysterious enigma even though he had not yet learned his name. It helped in the stranger's defense that he was rich, judging by his generous contributions as well as the Animalgum snoozing in the form of a puppy in the stranger's lap.

"What's your name, kid?" The question snapped him out of his inner turmoil and he responded automatically. "Aaron? A good name" he commented airily "at times the prophet above all others, at other times the messenger and always holy as high-flying heaven." He chuckled good naturedly at a pun only he seemed to recognize "not a bad name for a wizard if you think on it closely and quietly."

The quiet chuckle following this was in no way mocking, but Aaron still felt a bitter sting; everyone laughed at him since he'd run away. Anyone who recognized him had nothing but taunts and laughter and mocking words that stung every time he heard them. He'd come to associate pain with the sound of laughter in a way that made him no longer care. "You hate people because you think in a way that's not yours and don't know any better kiddo."

The calm answer to the question that had haunted him for years hit him like a snowball, and he yelped, falling out of his chair in shock, much to Stingchu's amusement. "Jumpy, aren't ya?"

--

The following conversation had wasted time, to Stingchu's delight. That way, he did not have to wait around, bored out of his mind, for the morning to fade away. In addition, he'd gotten himself an apprentice to play merry hell with other than Harry whom he still felt defensive over. Stingchu found himself concerned over young Harry's health and safety sometimes, and he had to wonder whether or not his paternal instincts were shoving him towards the young boy as they had done with countless children before.

After all, the young Vizor's uncle had already forced him to violence for Harry's protection, something that was not always so efficiently coerced, often because he usually didn't give a shit over who was beating who. He eventually had to chalk it up to the fact that he just really cared about kids and that raising so many had given him chronic 'Empty Nest Syndrome' that made it impossible to turn away from a parentless child.

--

After returning Aaron to his room at the Leaky Cauldron, Stingchu gave him the address to the Burrow along with the request to meet him there in a fortnight, provided of course that he received an owl from Stingchu stating he could come. Stingchu himself promised to send word within the next few days to the apprentice-to-be, who obviously had no idea how he was being maneuvered, but Stingchu did leave him a few philosophy books with the advice that he try a little harder to flush out what pureblood ideals he had left.

Aaron actually swore when he answered, the first time he'd done so since meeting Stingchu, saying something about his parents and Voldemort that the emanchu was sure would ordinarily constitute a visit to an interrogation room in order to ensure no form of murder took place in the near future. That alone had made him revise his strategy, including some more deadly subjects that should not ideally be legal in many of the dimensions he was aware of.

--

Stingchu reviewed the findings Black had made over the course of the day, paying particularly special attention to a frequently mentioned place called 'Azkaban' which was, evidently, the Vizors' version of prison in this world. Among other things, he'd learned it was 'Unplottable', which he learned meant impossible to find unless you knew where you were looking and impossible to get into unless you worked there or were allowed in and even then, no non-magical creature could even come near it. Afterwards, he'd spent time in Flourish and Blotts' finding one of the books he remembered detailing Voldemort's followers.

From the little book he learned more about the gloomy prison and its jailers, both human and not. Skimming the pages describing the supposedly perverse minds of Voldemort's supporters, he was quite interested to learn that several people there might not have been as guilty as others thought, most going to the rock without even a trial. As he read up on dementors, Stingchu made a mental note to buy the book on magical laws he'd scoffed at earlier. He might not give half a breath for obeying those laws, but he'd be damned if he allowed anyone else of this planet and of politics to do something illegal. Not when he could rub it in their faces once they were publicly humiliated for it…or better yet to use it to publicly humiliate them and then rub it in their faces.

Reading on, he found Filliam Aurescue Socarit listed as being an informant for Voldemort, teaching the demented Dark Lord all about psychology long after he'd risen to power. He was serving a life sentence in Azkaban, something that irked the emanchu; he was hoping the man wasn't a wreck by now and also that he wasn't like the pureblood idealists he was currently waving to or he'd do something terribly violent and end up feeling horrid for the loss of such an innovative scientist to racism. The aforementioned purebloods were muttering some very impolite things about him that he could hear in contrast to their thoughts and he had to firmly restrain himself from teaching them how easy it was to eat the hardwood flooring they were standing on.

--

The only way to find Azkaban, he realized after some careful thinking, was to stalk an employee and the only way to find an employee was to search the employee records of the Ministry of Magic and find an address. The only way for him to do that was to break into their records room after breaking into the Ministry as well, something he was now looking forward to. Now, the only problem was involved how boring that might be. In his case, breaking into places was so laughably easy because of his escapades that it was a running joke among some of his comrades. So, he made a few rules for himself to follow during his little reconnaissance mission.

First of all, he decided he'd have to do it so that no one knew that anyone had infiltrated the Ministry until he'd done what he'd come to do. Next, he had to find out where it was and get the information on an entrance without anyone noticing where and how he'd obtained it. Both were not such an issue; he'd already mastered the art of sneaking about unnoticed, but the fact that he was going to do so in a way that made it impossible to truly know who'd really done all this was the tricky part.

He had to be able to escape without anyone thinking he was an intruder but, at the same time, for everyone to have seen him while he was still there and think he was just another commuter. In addition, he had to make a terrible fuss while avoiding the accusation of creating it which meant anyone he encountered had to be put to unconsciousness before they saw him for what he really was; he'd have to be both unnoticed and unseen while still being sighted as a non-threatening person.

--

Had he not been in public, he would've cackled gleefully at the ease to which he was going to be able to infiltrate the ministry, stowing his cloak in his pack, which had changed into a small handbag that should not have been logically able to contain the objects in it. The wizard had not even noticed as Stingchu perused his mind for the location and method of entry. In fact, Stingchu had left the job to Black who was, so far, still existent. The extra personality was quite useful so far, and he made a mental note to store the basic profile back in his mind along with the only other persona he'd found amusing at all, although Imp really was useless as a tool; he was more of an amusing little pet… He might find Black useful later for those matters as well, when he needed to irritate his favorite dragon friend.

Taking a last look around for anyone paying attention, Stingchu dialed the number '6-2-4-4-2' and waited, blinking in surprise as a female, mechanical voice spoke from right beside him, asking for his name and his business. The wicked smile, had it been visible, most likely would've frightened the living daylights out of anyone it was directed to as he answered in a high falsetto, trying to sound as oily and dirty as possible.

"I'm, um, Sarah Blake" he toned in a voice that should have been a 19-year-old's. "I'm here to, um, like; give the minister a good time." The voice did not immediately reply. Indeed, several moments went by silently, during which Stingchu stifled his laughter and grinned maniacally, pondering whether or not he'd just broken the entrance with his answer. After nearly five minutes, the voice finally spoke up again as a badge clunked into the coin return slot.

"Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

"My robes? But, like, there's not enough material there. Couldn't I, like, put it on my belt or something? Like a cute little button or something?" Stingchu replied as he examined the button with his false name and title of 'Party Organizer'. He barely stifled his laughter at the supposedly-innocent title he'd been given as the voice ignored him, reminding him to check his wand with the guard in the atrium as it lowered him beneath the ground. A mischievous smile lit up his face as he exited into the hall, glancing briefly at the familiar, ever-shifting golden symbols as he gave his gait a small amount of sway, his rear and hips swinging in a way that was distinctly feminine as his elbows bent ever-so-slightly, in an almost soft fashion as his footsteps grew light. Had anyone looked, they would've thought he was a flat-chested woman.

Indeed, a great deal of the men walking out of the fireplaces around the Atrium were glancing at his behind as he passed, most of them looking away with guilty faces, none noticing the extent to which his disguise went. Had he not been as worried about appearances, he would've just broken down, laughing and pointing at everyone there, but that was against the 'rules'… The guard checking his wand also found himself unable to rip his eyes away, which made Stingchu happy, once again, that emanchu hips had more of a curve to them than a human's did; it made it so much easier to manipulate them all…

--

Author's Notes: The last part was a little difficult to write. I got to the part where I was writing about the absence of 'material' and had to go back and rewrite a few times due to all the spelling errors I'd made when I was laughing hysterically. Anyway, a little warning is included here; I don't know if I'll get the next part done by the end of the week as this was the last rapid-fire chapter I had. Sorry to spring it on you, but not to fear; there'll be something before the week is out I suspect. As for incoming characters, I'll be including in my next update who the two will be and which is which. As always, review judiciously!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: As promised, Chapter 5 has been finished, revised and perfected to my satisfaction (for now). As always, it would be my pleasure if any of my British viewers would point out the mistakes in the jargon of any of the witches and wizards appearing in the story. As always, review judiciously! For those still curious, the new main character is the Animalgum Ritten, and the new supporting character is Aaron Montague, who will eventually play a very important mini-role later on, though I won't say more than that!

Disclaimer: I hold no ownership whatsoever to any part of Harry Potter! ...But Stingchu's ass is **branded** with my full name, so I **do** own **him**...

--

It had been outrageously easy to sneak into the records and to memorize the information he needed. It had been even easier to act as if he had every business to be strutting around the Ministry as if it were his pissing grounds. The best part was when bad things started happening to the places he left behind and no one seemed to think him to be the instigator…or even notice him for that matter.

The last explosion was loud enough and large enough for the entire building to hear it and a quarter of it to come running. Of course, by then Stingchu was already five floors away in the Department of Mysteries, constructing a one-way portal in place of one of the entrances to a room in the department that would lead, instead, to the mirror of restroom somewhere in Muggle Hong Kong…in a hellishly stinky restroom. Turning to another door, he cast a spell (wandlessly of course) that would make any person walking across the threshold say nothing but the word 'cheese' in several different languages for the next two hours, the best part being that he would hear his words as if they were regular English.

He then judged that he'd created enough mischief for the time being and headed further into the department, into a long, dark hallway (sound familiar?). Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a giant paintbrush that had no business fitting in such a small bag and an equally large paint can. Within moments, scrawled onto one of the walls of the hallway was a message in crimson, as obnoxious as he was with every twisted quirk in its spelling. Putting away both the can and brush, he then took out a pre-prepared note and tacked it onto the wall with scotch tape so that it hid the message from view.

This time, he **did** laugh maniacally, making sure he scanned the other side of the door to confirm that it was empty before moving on to bigger and better things.

--

By the time Dumbledore reached the Ministry, the chaotic scramble to restore order to the various magical charms and enchantments was as out of control as the bedlam it was trying to suppress. It took a good twenty minutes before the Atrium began looking presentable again and Dumbledore was starting to feel his age as he collapsed the one-way portal in the Department of Mysteries. Funnily enough, it went to China, which was as corny a pun as it could get. The next door he walked through, however…

He almost flinched at the fact that the writing was red, before noticing that it was too bright a color to be dried blood. Reading it, however, was harder than figuring out what color it was.

The top line was ordinary enough, with the solitary word 'hello' misspelled as 'hallo'. The second line was a little fussy, however. At first, it looked illegible, as if it was some kind of scribbling the artist had put in for fun. After further examination of the entire line, however, Dumbledore realized that the author had written from right to left for the second line, as well as writing backward with the letters reversed as is they were a reflection of regular words. The line after that was all symbols that were easy enough for a child to recognize, but the third line required translation as it was written in Spanish.

The last few lines were written in all different languages, which made Dumbledore curious as to what kind of a person had written the message. About twenty minutes and three Aurors later, all the lines were translated to read:

_Hallo,_

_Mah name's not important, but what I gotta say is. What I have to say is that your security precautions suck BALLS. I could sneak into this place, blinded and with my stronger hand tied behind my back and leave before anyone noticed I was here. Honestly, you should all be ashamed of yourselves; a child could rob you blind before you even knew what was happening. Shameful, isn't it?_

_As for me, I got what I came for, though you will see that I have stolen nothing due to an agreement with one of my favored friends. Expect to be hearing from me very, very soon. _

Next to the smiley face he'd drawn was a piece of paper taped to the wall. Dumbledore carefully opened it…and promptly muttered every expletive he knew as his blood turned to ice in his veins. It said only one word in jagged letters, written in what could only be human blood: 'Demon'.

--

For years, warriors and soldiers of numerous cultures have turned to the animal kingdom, emulating its champions in their pursuit to become the perfect hunter - a perfect hunter that could wait forever for its prey to become vulnerable, or stalk any creature for days until it showed an opening in its guard, then strike without hesitation and without error. For years, animals were thought of as gods due to their skill at hunting and, later, science found evidence of some 'sixth sense' hunting techniques that, supposedly, was the secret to becoming a perfect hunter.

It was kind of funny in the end that all it really took was god-like reflexes, at least some kind of depth perception and a little patience. All that worship and all that study didn't actually mean shit; the only problem was apathy. At least, that was Stingchu's take on the situation. Then again, when one knew the secret to complete and total camouflage like they knew their own left foot, it wasn't surprising that the rest of society would be viewed as lazy or stupid even. So these were his thoughts as he followed Barthemew Arrowin to the shoreline in front of Azkaban.

--

Laughing manically, Stingchu fell back on his ass as he gave into the weakness brought on by laughter. Had anyone entered the scene at this point, they would have immediately escorted the young emanchu to St. Mungo's psychiatric ward, and then checked themselves in for hallucinating such a fantastical creature, never mind what the emanchu was laughing about. Then again, that was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg in such an insane situation… First and foremost was the fact that he seemed to be laughing for no reason at all in a situation that was not at all funny.

After all, he was suffering a rather runny nosebleed, more of the red liquid spraying from his mouth as he laughed, flecks of it dotting the rock upon which he'd fallen. Then there was the fact that he'd taken his mask and goggles off again and was sopping wet; any wizard would've thought they were hallucinating at the sight of the alien (which was enough of a shock), much less seeing a soul brave (or crazy) enough to enter the raging sea a few feet away. Then again, had anyone entered the scene before that, they would've been perhaps even more traumatized.

Only moments ago, he'd been tossed from the bitterly cold sea, landing head-first with a resounding crack that had sent blood flying into the air and sea, painting the stone in long, exaggerated splashes. He landed on his back, cursing slightly as a particularly small pebble nestled into a sensitive bruise on his spine and nearly sank into and through his skin and quickly rolled off of the disturbance before standing. Then, when he removed the mask, a spray of blood had erupted from the top of his skull, where he'd hit himself, rather like what one would see in a really lame, nasty horror movie, though by the effect the blood had on a nearby stone wall, it really wasn't a special effect.

As his head wound bled, he himself vomited a great spray of sea water at a distance of no less than five feet. After he was done heaving, he'd stared out at where he'd just thrown up, and then started laughing at the absurd hilarity of it all; an absurd hilarity which, apparently, only he could see. So, as the blood blended in with his equally red, sopping wet hair, he began bleeding from his nose and then throwing up blood and laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world, falling on his behind as he gave into the apparently irresistible, yet insane humor of what had just happen.

"A body of water just kicked my ass!!" He finally yelled "it kicked…haha!! My bonny little fuckin' ass!! Ha!!" So, he spent the next few minutes laughing about his own loss in an illogical 'fight' against the sea, still spewing out blood every once in a while and muttering little, amused statements over his double vision.

--

Eventually, he'd managed to stop his spasms of laughter, assessing the damage to his skull. After determining what it was, he took a handful of what seemed to be paper clips from his pocket and pulled his scalp back to where it belonged, dropping the clips on his head. They came to life, unfurling and crawling along the wound, poking it at times, trying to find something as they slithered along his head. Then, they began to force their way through the scalp, carefully closing the gash in a morbid likeness of sewing clothing together. When they had finished, Stingchu tucked his mask and goggles into his backpack, and then turned to assess the size of the wall next to him, focusing in on the strange aura emanating from behind it as he removed his gloves, stuffing them in a pocket.

The wall itself, other than being afflicted by some stubborn patches of moss and crumbling a bit, was of a generic stone-dungeon type of build instead of the fort mortar he'd expected. He'd thought it would be more protected, but obviously the creators of the prison had been too cocky and thought any break-in attempts would fail in the sea, if not their magical protective measures. The wall also seemed to be an easy job to scale, making it even an even stupider construct for a prison; honestly, he'd be surprised if it was even barely twenty feet tall, which would be disgustingly low for any prison anyway. The aura, however, was much more foreboding.

It was a strange mix of deathly cold and misery, somewhat tinged by the distinctive tang of evil. Inhaling through his nose curiously, he went into a sneezing fit, making disgusted noises and hurling expletives into the air with all his lung power at the scent of putrid death and malevolent rot that flooded his nose. "What the fucking hell?!?!" He finally screamed amidst a flood of obscenities "that fucking smells like an undead butt-hole after forceful ass-raping!! Who the fuck is stinking like that!?" Once he managed to master himself enough, he straightened, glaring up the length of the wall "whoever stinks is about to die, so you better run!!" He yelled "because if I fucking get my claws on you, I swear you'll suffer more than that douche bag Everin for traumatizing my fucking nose!!!"

--

Whether or not the dementor on the other side of the wall ever heard this speech would never be determined, though it could be inferred that it did not due to the fact that it did not take Stingchu's advice and run away. Then again, considering it had never encountered the emanchu, it was vaguely conceivable that it had no idea what he was capable of. The point was, after Stingchu jumped the wall, the dementor had been quite swiftly taken care of, though not at all quietly. After all, it was the creature's pained shrieks that had initially alerted the guards to its death, though none of them expected the sight in front of them.

Despite working with dementors at the prison for years, not many of the guards knew what they looked like beneath their heavy cloaks, though that was only logical; any sane creature that actually **wanted** to get close enough to see was only too stupid to be allowed to live through the experience. However, the scene in front of them helped clear some things up, mainly about whether or not a dementor could bleed. Turns out, they could…well, sort of…

The dementor was lying face up, completely motionless, it's rotten face exposed to the night air to reveal eyeless sockets in a sickeningly red excuse for a face, part of said face ripped off to reveal the top half of a skull. The jaw was mysteriously missing, along with a great deal of teeth from the top jaw. As for the rest of the creature, it looked like something very angry and very irritated, to the point of being pissed, had been at it with a set of very sharp, very dangerous limbs.

It was gutted almost to the point of resembling a wolf attack, complete with the arrangement of strange, globular organs strewn across the surrounding area. The cloak was not spared either; along with the entire right side of the creature's body, whatever had attacked it had apparently tried to burn it afterward, most likely out of spite.  
Unfortunately, the first two guards arriving on the scene did not expect such a sight; one of them, a veteran Auror, just managed to hold his supper down as he backed away from the stench of mauled rotten flesh, though nothing could be done for the rookie that backed off **around the corner** to give his own meal as an offering to the gods of horrified vomiting. Unfortunately, he did so right in a small puddle of the now fully deceased creature's blood and…all that needed to be said beyond that point was that he needed to throw up again after that.

"Merlin's balls…" Hendricks muttered as he raised his wand over the scene, his _Lumos_ spell showing the walls sprayed with purple blood splatter that looked as if it belonged at the scene of a violent homicide "what the hell kind of monster could do this?" Several yards away, Stingchu sneezed, his ears burning slightly.

"If I find out who said something bad 'bout me" he muttered darkly, absently tossing a hunk of meat and bone up into the air and catching it again in a repeated pattern "I'll do even worse than I did to Mr. Stinky back there."

--

Stingchu was presently in a very bad mood. So far, the only good thing about this entire trip was drowning for a while and then getting his scalp split open; the adrenaline from the near-death experiences, not to mention the amusing aspect of nature trying to kill him, had been enough to bring him into a happy state. In his opinion, meeting the first one, whom he'd dubbed 'Mr. Stinky', had ruined the entire mood of the whole shebang. As if that wasn't enough, Mr. Stinky had friends - the now-deceased Phil, Bob and Crappy McShitface who all stunk just as bad, not to mention tried to feed off his aura before he'd strung their guts all over the stones of the dungeons he was lost in. "Mother fucking spirit-sucking whores" he muttered…just as he turned the corner to bump into another dementor.

At first, the creature seemed to try and immediately 'attack' him by nipping at his aura, but then… Had any wizard been there to witness the following events, they would have been extremely intrigued by the dementor's behavior. It paused…as in went stone-stiff, the aura around it tensing to the point of shrinking as it registered the blood of its fellows covering the new figure like a second skin. "What?!" Stingchu snapped irritably, glaring touchily at the creature as it slowly backed away. Then realizing what the creature was doing…

Had the smile been visible to the dementor's somewhat sightless eyes, and had it been possible, the dementor would've shit its pants. Nevertheless, the manic, insane aura that suddenly flowed from the emanchu was enough to cause the dementor to turn, for the first time in history, to fear as the emanchu spoke up "hello, Clarice, you look so luscious tonight" he drawled evilly. It was enough to set the dementor to swooping away. Had anyone been watching, they would've actually begun to pity the wretched creature as it began to make the most horrible, terrified scream. "Wait, Clarice!!" Stingchu called out in a girly, mockingly sarcastic tone, chasing it "I looove yooouuu!! I love all of you!! Especially your organs!!"

--

Filliam had thought he'd never seen the light of day again after being stuffed in Azkaban and had therefore resigned himself to death, clinging to life in a way even he thought to be pointless. After all, if Lucius wanted him there, it wasn't like he'd ever get out; it was his own fault for writing things in his book the Malfoys wanted no one to know and then being imprisoned by the Dark Lord for his knowledge on all the pureblood families. It was times like those that he really hated his family heritage; serving Voldemort had been a fate worse than death…literally - if he ever met Harry Potter, he'd have to kiss the boy.

Between his misery and despair, it was therefore a decidedly surreal situation to see a dementor tear past his cell, running away from something that was probably even more foul than it was…something that turned out to be some kind of…yellow-furred, red-haired creature…dressed all in black, simpering in a very cheesy falsetto and calling it 'Clarice', begging for it to return and give its organs to him as a meal. For a moment, he didn't know whether he should just gape at what had just occurred, or knock himself out to spare himself the nervous breakdown, but eventually settled for laughing himself senseless for the first time in almost ten years.

A moment later, he heard horrific screams of unimaginable pain coming from the direction the two had disappeared in, followed by the stench of dementors, only ten times stronger than any they had produced before… After the screams finally tapered off into a morbid gurgle and then stopped completely, footsteps began to draw near his cell, followed by the appearance of the creature from before who stopped in front of his cell, staring at him with mismatched eyes.

"What?" The wizard finally snapped, somewhat unnerved by the bizarre appearance of the being, which looked a little like a dementor from the neck down because of the darkness of his clothing and that the stranger was soaked in…something that most certainly was not water judging by its purple coloration, the half of his face with the creepy blue eye covered in the stuff.

"Meh" he answered, shrugging "you look familiar; like someone I've seen on the back of a book. Is your name Filliam Aurescue Socarit?" Pausing momentarily, Filliam nodded cautiously.

"What's it to you?" He asked, getting the distinct impression that the thing's smile was hiding far more than even the psychotic twist was suggesting.

"Yay!" He answered childishly "I thought I'd never find you, I was so lost! Especially after I killed Phil and then Bob! The last straw was when I had to finish off Crappy McShitface; he kept getting up again and again and after he stopped moving, he smelled so bad I just ran 'till I couldn't smell 'im anymore!!" At this point, he made a small 'bleh', pointing a finger at his mouth, which opened to reveal a forked tongue "I thought my nose would burn right off he smelled so nasty!"

He then snorted in a childish way, a hand on his hip "I kept losing track of where I was because of them all, but I guess I got lucky with Clarice; she lead me straight to you!!" Filliam stared openly at the piece of work talking to him, his old analytical side whirring back to life and commenting on the fact that the surreal nature of the situation, not to mention the behavior of what he would normally see as a hallucination, was pushing him into shock.

"Er" he paused, feeling awkward as his voice rasped nastily "who exactly are you? Why were you looking for me? A-Are you a hallucination?" He was greeted by raucous laughter at first, but soon his new visitor calmed enough to reply.

"Nope! I'm real, to the great displeasure of many who would rather be hallucinating and to the misfortune of Mr. Stinky, Phil, Bob, Crappy McShitface and now Clarice. Oh, by the way, Clarice was the first girl dementor I met today. Does that have to do with the arrangements of their guard duties?" He made a sudden gasp "you don't think they're making all the girl dementors stay in a section apart from all the boy dementors, do you? Ooooh, that's so sexist…!"

Filliam just stared, suddenly hoping and praying to any god listening that the babbling psycho in front of him was just a delusion and that he'd finally cracked, no matter how much this meant toward the possibility of freedom he'd given up on long ago. It was a far better reality to face than whatever the wacko before him had crawling around his demented little mind. He was distracted from his prayer by the sudden, all-too-familiar chilling air preceding the coming of a dementor. He moaned slightly, shivering, turning to his visitor and trying to warn him, but… "Peeee-yew!!!" Stingchu exclaimed, pinching his small, black dog-like nose, his eyes watered slowly just as a dementor rounded the bend, catching his eye.

Unfortunately (or not depending on your sense of perspective), this was a mistake on the dementor's part, though it was a bit smarter and paused before it came within reach of the short anomaly in front of it. For a moment, there was a tense, awkward silence during which the dementor and emanchu stared at one another; Filliam glancing at each in turn in avid curiosity as the usual unpleasantness associated with dementors began fading away. "You're Barney!" Stingchu suddenly yelled, pointing at it before lowering his center of gravity into a slight crouch, uncovered claws twitching in grim expectation "you're also dead!!"

--

Filliam stared at what was left of the dementor, not knowing whether he should cheer at the sight of the mangled carcass, barf at both that and what had lead it to its current state, or just laugh his pants off. He opted for none of the above, turning to the monster that had just murdered the dementor in curiosity.

"How did you do that?" He finally asked the smoking emanchu.

"What?" Filliam just pointed at what was left of the dementor, most of which had been splashed across the stone floor through the sheer force behind his claws. "Oh, the same as when I met up with Mr. Stinky, Phil, Bob, Crappy McShitface and Clarice."

"Yes, but how come you don't feel…it…when they suck away all your happiness…" he shivered "how come it doesn't affect you?" For a moment, he was given a blank, slightly confused look…and then Stingchu burst into maniacal laughter, his cigarette almost falling to the floor.

"Wh-when they-?! Oh, that's rich! Is that why everyone's scared of these pansy-ass things?!" Another bout of maniacal laughter left Filliam to stare at him, mystified, before he spoke again. "As if that shit works on people who've been crazy as long as me!! Nah, the only bad thing about them is that they stink like a sewer after too many people have tainted triple-bean burritos and dirty tap water!" He then burst into laughter again and did not stop for quite some time.

--

"S-so, why did you come looking for me?" Filliam questioned again, hoping for an honest answer. He was surprised to receive one…

"I wanted to talk about the subject in one of your books; it sounds interesting, and interesting is a premium for me! Before that, though…" he stepped up to the cell door, cracking his knuckles "we're getting you out…"

"Wait" Filliam cried "that door's enchanted to-!!" He was cut off as the iron-bar door was blown off its hinges by a single punch and embedded into the wall across it. "Um…okay…that was crazy…"

"Yep" Stingchu commented "oh, by the way, when we get out of here, can you autograph the book I got?" Had it been any other time, place or person, Filliam would've yelled at Stingchu for being absurd, but as it was…

"Whatever you want" he sighed heavily, already feeling the relief he knew would come once he was taken by the maniacal demon to lands far from the dementors he seemed to tear from existence so easily.

--

They encountered a triplet of dementors before they managed to break free of the dungeons. Stingchu leaped for the newly christened 'Moe' first, baring his fangs as he clawed off half of the nasty thing's face off with an open-handed version of a right hook, a long splash of purple and flesh painting the ground. Spinning, his next hand drew the long katana from his waist and severed the dementor from the waist up; it fell screaming and flailing in a slightly comical way that would've been funny if not for the reality of the situation.

The next one wound up with a sword through its skull and a gloved hand that pierced its chest with the same ferocity, punching through rotten flesh and bone alike before showing up on the other side, stained purple. A swift movement later, the dementor was decapitated, and half its organs were ripped from their cavity, flung all over the stones. The third was not so lucky; at this point, noticing he had a few moments to concentrate on this dementor, Stingchu returned his blade to where it belonged, fangs gleaming as he crouched.

Leaping forward with a roar, the emanchu left no escape for the dementor, tearing its chest out with a single swipe of his claws. His hands were a blur, tearing at rotted flesh, bone and god knew what else until it had all been scattered and he had gouged deep, jagged marks into stone. He didn't stop, though; returning to the first of the bunch that he'd attacked, he took his sword out again and proceeded to carefully disembowel it with raw, seemingly random stabs. His reasons were revealed as it emitted a pained cry, compulsions running through its body even as what was laughably considered its organs were thrown into the air to land wherever they wished, the emanchu laughing the whole time as if engaged in a childish game. Poor Moe, Larry and Curly.

--

When they'd landed, Filliam asked Stingchu if he'd used his wings to reach the island the first time. When he asked Stingchu to describe his method of arrival after a negative, the emanchu merely stared at him, and then looked off into the gloomy sky, his expression nowhere near thoughtful or even musing as he petted the Animalgum in his hands, which was currently a little puppy. The adorable little thing had all but knocked Stingchu on his ass; then again, the two had been separated for almost 4 hours; he'd left the Animalgum in a place nearby while he'd infiltrated the ministry and apparently it was still very attached to the obnoxious emanchu. After a few moments, he looked down and commented on the fact that they needed to get going; it was at that point that Filliam understood he wasn't going to get any answers Stingchu did not feel like giving. So, rather than irritate his savior, he asked another question…

"That's simple" was the answer "in a cave."

"A…cave?"

"Yes" Stingchu replied plainly "of course, not just any cave; I'll be setting it up, after all, although you'll have to be very careful any time you feel like stepping outside and also, you'll have to promise not to tell anything about the contents of it."

"Still…why a cave?"

"Well, because no one can detect my kind of magic" he replied "especially if I take careful steps, ya know? Besides" he added with a wink "don't you want to see what it's like to live like an alien?"

--

It was only a bit irresponsible to break a felon out of Azkaban just to have a philosophical chat with them, and possibly only once. It should've been an understatement, but to anyone who knew him long enough, it wasn't the worst they'd experienced from his juvenile side. In short, after Filliam had properly settled himself, Stingchu had spent a grand total of 15 minutes explaining all the capabilities of the technology he'd 'installed' into the cave, then only 3 hours discussing his scientific studies, which was much less time than Stingchu had spent reading the book so far. In the end, the emanchu had left before the sun had even begun to rise after promising to visit again before the year's end, headed back toward Muggle London with his mask once again concealing his face; only this time he had something…more…in mind.

--

Finding Platform 9 ¾ should've been theoretically impossible on any day other than September 1st and June 30th of every year, excluding the dates of holiday it was allowed to run. Theoretically impossible, however, had not applied to Stingchu's capabilities (or even registered when he was told so) for what seemed like an eternity ago. Although he had no clue where Hogwarts was, Harry had told him exactly where to enter Platform 9 ¾. After getting in, it was all just a simple task of following the rails.

So, the emanchu promptly kicked 'theoretically impossible' right in the stones and marched right through the supposedly sealed barrier, not so much as a single muscle twitching as the defensive magic failed to push him back successfully and let him walk onto the platform. It did frighten Ritten though, and it took every ounce of his nearly non-existent self-restraint not to turn around and obliterate the magical enchantment, reminding himself that Harry would be using the platform soon and needed it as secure as possible, even if the barrier was laughably weak in his own point of view. The platform itself was dark, almost desolate but for the large red engine, an eerie structure in the fading light of the empty station.

He spent a little time examining first the platform and then snooping around the train, peering at certain places in a somewhat curious manner that would have bought him many stares had the platform been crowded as it was on those very few days of the year. Perhaps, though, the lack of witnesses was fortunate despite his amusement in piquing the curiosity of others; that way, he wasn't annoyed and didn't have to explain why punching someone in the face was, for him, as impulsive and as automatic a reaction as blinking.

Once done with his investigations, the only interesting quirk he noticed was a glitch in the train's function; the motion charms seemed to have a loophole that made him queasy. To know that Harry would be riding this train coming September was an unhappy thought with such a glaring problem; it seemed that he'd have to accompany the boy and ensure there were no 'mishaps' along the way. Then again, that made him look forward to it, in an odd way; that meant he'd be quite amused during the trip.

--

Racing down the tracks at speeds that periodically forced leaves off of several nearby trees, Stingchu shortened what was usually a day-long trip down to about 10 minutes and eventually leaped off the tracks at a frightening velocity, skidding long marks into the dirt as he landed on all fours. He just barely stopped as he drifted to the edge of Hogsmeade's center lane, Hogwarts in full view. For a moment, he stared up at it somewhat curiously, admiring the architecture while looking like a rather bizarre spider that was missing some legs.

Finally, after a full 10 minutes, he rose to his feet and headed down the lane, staring up at the tower. As he walked, he felt the tickle at the back of his neck indicating he had many eyes watching him, and waved at the several owners, to which they belonged, startling them back to the safety behind their curtains. Ignoring their mixed fear and curiosity, he skipped his way through town, humming an upbeat tune as he headed for Hogwarts.

--

Author's Note: So there you have it; as for the next update, I believe it's not too unreasonable that there'll be at least one a week unless stated otherwise, although I don't think I'll be managing anything close to that once school starts up again. As always, enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes: Here's Chapter 6! Don't be too disappointed; it's mostly just filler and character development, but Chapter 7 is gonna be full of delicious goodies! There's also some character development in this chapter, and a hint at events to come (if you squint). Hope you like the humor on Diagon Alley, though; I made sure anyone would be able to appreciate it, though perhaps not understand one part of it completely... On a more final note, please don't flame me too completely for this chapter; its a completely fresh piece of work; I've only gone over it twice and with only a week to write, instead of three months like the first 4 chapters, it's going to be a little awkward on some points, though I wouldn't mind some suggestions on how to clean up the rocky parts. As always, anyone who reads and is also familiar with British diction, feel free to Brit-pick, but only with the British characters' speech, not with the narrator's lines, or Stingchu's and Galaxy's language. As always, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Me no own Harry Potter!

--

The road wasn't too rocky, but it was a bit long, and the humidity was somewhat apparent, though it was pleasantly cool for summer weather; something Stingchu appreciated considering the disguise he was wearing. In fact, it was thanks to his boots he was having almost no trouble with the road; the fact that it kept a vaguely human shape gave more support to his own feet, which were perfectly proportioned for rough terrain as they were, the toes and ball being the only parts hitting the ground even when confined to the footwear. The combination of his own anatomy and the special combat boots made his journey surprisingly easy and he hadn't even worked up a sweat by the time he reached the front gate, leaping over the 15ft spikes as neatly as if he'd just stepped over a crack in a sidewalk. Ritten blinked, and then turned into an Ashwinder, neatly slithering through the bars before turning into a puppy again.

He almost laughed maniacally as he realized that no barrier had prevented his entrance; it seemed that the wards around the school were really **that** weak. Instead, he emitted a quiet, satisfied hum, smiling beneath his disguise. A pawing at his leg attracted his attention and he spared Ritten an endearing smile as the puppy yapped up at him, before running ahead and falling down to roll around in the cool grass. He whined miserably as he realized he wanted to do the same, but did not even think of removing his disguise in such an open area; that was for later…

He shook himself from his imaginings slightly and headed up to the castle, Ritten yapping joyfully at his heels.

--

Severus Snape blinked once, then twice and then a third time, before shaking his head, as if it would help to clear the impossible image in front of him. Stingchu stared back evenly, raising a brow beneath his mask and blinked in a nearly mocking mimicry of the Potions professor in front of him. As Severus proceeded to open and close his mouth repeatedly, inspiration struck the emanchu and a wicked smile painted his face. It seemed that the poor, utterly confused man had been ready to speak when…

"Ik heb de scepter" he said "is uw lies nabijgelegen?" For a moment, nothing was said, and Snape was left puzzled, unable to suss out what the fuck was going on with his new acquaintance, who was very subtly laughing at him as he reached out with legillimancy and smacked against a wall of pure mana. "Noooo!!!" He suddenly shrieked in a high falsetto, his arms curling against his chest protectively even as his knees came together and his hips slanted. "Please, don't rape my miiind!!"

Severus gaped incredulously. It was understandable; Stingchu had not only displayed knowledge of Occlumency to an outrageous and rather impossible degree, but had seemingly changed his gender completely without any indication of wand usage. To say the least, not being able to tell the most basic of facts from a stranger was extremely unnerving, especially when that particular stranger was maniacally laughing, a psychotic edge to their amusement. "Oops" Stingchu said, abruptly ceasing his laughter "I done pulled a funny."

"Wh-what the bloody effing-aaaAARGH!!" Severus was cut off at mid-sentence, knocked flat on his ass by something hitting his legs. He just barely managed to avoid cracking his head open on the stone floor by cradling his head with his hands. As it was, he did not immediately register the childish giggling until Stingchu responded to it.

"You turn human too!! Oh, isn't that my clever little Ritten, and probably not even 1 year old yet, even in human years!" When Severus managed to finally push himself up if only partially, he was sent gaping again. Stingchu was currently holding up over his head a completely naked, happily squealing babe with jet-black hair and astonishingly purple eyes.

"Ubba noo!!" He squealed "Dada!" For a moment, the emanchu seemed to freeze.

"Wh-what did you call me?"

"Dadaaa!!" He yelled happily, holding his arms out to the emanchu below, reaching to try and take off the goggles, so he could see daddy's real eyes again. To this, Stingchu's only reply was to hug the little creature close even as the cheeks of the black mask concealing him from view darkened, wet.

--

As quickly as he had appeared, Stingchu vanished from Severus' sight, leaving behind a blurry afterimage that faded quickly. He left the potion's professor shell-shocked where he'd met him, racing through Hogwarts before finally stopping in a small, deserted corridor and placing the still-laughing babe carefully on the ground, flinging his backpack off in the same instant. In short order, the little creature was buried within the folds of one of the spare cloaks Stingchu had, and laughed from within the folds of the black material, crawling around under the fabric for an exit from the 'tent'. Stingchu, seeing that Ritten was now thoroughly occupied, sat heavily, staring at the wriggling lump as his mind was set in full gear, figuring out what to do for his new 'son'.

--

"Well, I guess there's no way about it, then" Stingchu said calmly, sighing heavily as he began extricating the still-human Ritten from his spare cloak. Once he had, he wrapped the cloak around the little child's waist and legs, leaving the arms free to wrap clumsily around the emanchu's neck. He chuckled, before exiting with one last, slightly lamenting look at the adventure he'd have to leave behind, then shaking it off in favor of heading back to the Burrow.

--

Harry had been reading a particularly fascinating section on the reactions of magical fire and water when coming into contact with the energy from raw magical energy when it happened. He'd just commented on the trickiness of learning of the atomic level of magical reactions, and did not expect to have his comment receive a response when…

"Well, when you get down to it" Stingchu replied "the energy itself, since it is not actually made up of atoms, can easily react to water, a form of matter and fire, a chemical reaction, and manipulate them into whatever individual actions that could be desired, or any combinations that the user thinks of." He made a small 'oof' as the babe clinging to him pulled on his nose "its actually just a matter" he continued in what was now a nasally tone, as if ignorant of Harry's gape "of manipulating the electrical signals sent by your brain to do what you want them to."

A dry, awkward silence fell upon the Weasleys, the only sound being Ritten's sweet laughter as he again and again grabbed at 'dada's' nose, foiled again and again by gentle fingers. Harry cleared his throat as the shock wore from him the quickest, giving the giggling babe a somewhat wary look even as it finally turned to regard him, smiling happily. Even Galaxy took a few moments, though he finally trusted himself enough to speak after a while.

"Where did you get that baby, and do his parents know he's missing?"

"I bought him from a pet store, and he's not missing from someone else; I'm his papa." The mini dragon stared and stared, blinking again and again before finally responding, almost like a computer not being able to process something.

"You're his what?" He finally asked calmly.

"Dada!!" The child answered in a squeal, hugging the emanchu's neck affectionately, a bright, innocent smile on his face. To say that the silence following that little outburst was deafening would've been an understatement.

--

In short order, Stingchu had created a new room in The Burrow, as ridiculously impossible as it sounded. Stingchu was, however, kicking impossible's ass around the metaphorical courtyard a lot lately, so it wasn't all that much of a trial, although the entire Weasley family didn't stop staring at him in awe after his accomplishment. To join the new room, he'd also accepted Mrs. Weasley's initial offer of a crib and several little baby toys, left over from the day her children were little. After all this had been done, the emanchu went a step further, creating the same jungle reminiscent environment as the one in the cave.

For the next few days, Stingchu was content in spending time either raising Ritten, or tutoring Harry. Although it had been hard to convince them all, Stingchu had in that time managed to persuade them to let a certain young man join them for the last week of summer. So it was that on the 6th day Aaron arrived.

--

Stingchu was the first to notice the solitary figure trudging up the lane, a trunk over one shoulder, and a caged owl in the other. Placing Ritten on the floor, he trotted up to the 17 year old Slytherin with a kind but unseen smile, Ritten yapping happily as he ran up in puppy form; the boy looked much more relaxed, almost calm. It appeared that one of the books had helped him more than could be expected. Ritten, apparently recognizing the newcomer, leaped into the air, and was barely stopped by Stingchu's quick reflexes from bowling Aaron over. The teen sighed heavily as the danger had passed, before nodding his thanks. A moment later, he was gaping as the squirming, yapping little puppy turned into a giggling, bouncing baby boy.

--

Although Aaron had been met by a slightly lukewarm reception from the Weasleys, he soon managed to settle in. He was sleeping with Stingchu and Ritten; after a brief explanation, the emanchu had conjured a bed and now the only thing the Slytherin had to worry about was waking up to Ritten's cries, which really wasn't that often; usually Stingchu would be up before the little babe even started whimpering. It helped, of course, that Stingchu demanded to pay the grocer's bill in return for their stay, and that Harry showed no animosity towards him whatsoever. In truth, now that Aaron was learning about biology too, the younger boy would often be found tutoring him. It was a sight of Gryffindor helping Slytherin that the Weasleys still stared at from time to time.

A surprising friendship had developed between Galaxy and Aaron as well, mostly because the little dragon seemed to be the only one to consider discussing philosophy. The dragon could also be found sitting in between Harry and Aaron at dinner times, his usual excuse being that it was the only safe place from Stingchu, which usually earned him a sound thump over the head.

Stingchu himself had taken to teaching Aaron martial arts as well, promising Harry that he would prove to be a good sparring partner, although he implied that it would take longer than the time they had left for summer vacation. Indeed, the very day after he commented on this fact was the day they were scheduled to visit Diagon Alley.

--

Stingchu's reappearance in Gringotts triggered an instantly polite and almost friendly reception of the Weasleys. As the group started heading for the carts, Harry hung back, something not lost on Stingchu, who followed his example.

"What is it, kiddo?" The emanchu asked as Harry opened his mouth, Ritten mewling quietly from his shoulder in kitten form. The young Vizor hesitated at the suddenness to which Stingchu had caught on, frowning momentarily.

"Well…" he squirmed uncomfortably "it's just that, my vault is kind of…and the Weasleys…"

"He's got plenty and the Weasleys ain't filthy rich is what's his problem" Galaxy stated bluntly from his shoulder, wings flexing irritably at his master's discomfort. Stingchu's expression, though unseen, softened as he put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, leading him to the side.

"Don't worry; I think I get it" he said quietly "Aaron!" He waved the older boy over "come on! We'll go together!"

--

"Why aren't we going down to the vaults?" Aaron asked silently, staring at the goblin leading them to Rookgrim. He turned to the emanchu after no answer was forthcoming, and repeated the question in order to receive the answer.

"Cats don't do what you want them to; they do only what they like to do. Any attempt to force them to do something will get you a face full of angry claws." For a moment, the teen just stared at his eccentric benefactor, before answering.

"So…we're going to go do something because someone pissed you off by trying to force you into something and now what we're going to do is going to make things difficult for whoever pissed you off?"

"You got all that from a saying?" Harry asked, staring at both of them incredulously "wait, how did you even figure any of that out?"

"Well…" for a moment, Aaron looked uncomfortable "the way he talks about stuff is kind of abstract, and there are more metaphors than anything, so…" He was blushing now, seeing as even little Ritten was staring at him. "Well, you asked!!"

--

After quite some time spent in Gringotts dealing with Aaron's brand new accounts, and then waiting while Stingchu spoke privately with Rookgrim for a few moments, the quintet met up with the Weasleys again, and promptly split up with strict orders to meet up at Flourish and Blotts' within an hour. Stingchu, having long since scoured the interesting parts of Knockturn Alley, merely followed Harry as he walked with Ron and Hermione Granger, the latter of which he'd just met not a moment ago. She was rather clever, if only in a blatantly intellectual way.

She'd been immediately distrustful of him, based on both his sword and general appearance, softening only marginally when she observed Ritten's antics and how gently they were tolerated. She was still obviously curious though, and had more than a few nagging doubts that left her somewhat distracted the whole time…that was until they reached Flourish and Blotts.

--

"For those of us a bit behind on our vocabulary" Stingchu announced as they just stood staring at the milling crowd at the book store "the term 'gaggle-fuck' can be used as an adjective that would almost perfectly describe this scene." Immediately following this commentary, Ron snorted, Hermione turned a solid scarlet color and Harry sighed in exasperation as Stingchu tried to teach Ritten to say the obnoxious word.

"Gaggle-fuck, eh?" Galaxy commented wryly, attracting the emanchu's attention "I was thinking more along the lines of a certain type of orgy that involved something called a Mongolian Cluster F-" The dragon never got to finish his sentence; the moment Stingchu had realized what Galaxy was about to say, he'd whipped around and, Ritten in one hand, promptly bashed the little troublemaker's head in with a blindingly fast right hook, blowing him off Harry's shoulder and halfway down the alley.

As he flew at high velocity and across distances long, Galaxy unfolded his wings, cursing venomously as he managed to straighten himself in time to ram right into a pale, blonde-haired young boy, knocking both of them to the pavement to the displeasure of the boy's father. "Mother fucker!!!" The dragon roared as soon as he'd extricated his mouth from the young boy's armpit. "I'll shit on his pillow for this!!! Bitchy little hypocritical fruit loop; he says the word gaggle-fuck, of all things, and then doesn't even fucking let me say Mongolian Cluster F-mmph!!"

This time it was Lucius Malfoy, surprisingly, who shut Galaxy up, grabbing his muzzle and forcing it close, an almost frantic expression on his face as he spared his son's not-so-clean ears and his own sanity. Draco, just now recovering from the impact, blinked at the scene, wondering with no small amount of curiosity what the dragon had been seconds from saying and how and why his father knew what it was. He'd soon forget this little curiosity though, because in the very next instant, the little dragon's feathery tail whipped up and around at an astounding speed and caught the older Malfoy's family jewels. Dead center, no less.

The blond aristocrat choked on his own spit, going white as a sheet as the pain registered, the smallest whine barely whispering from his throat. A moment later, he'd fallen to the cobblestone walkway of Diagon Alley, cloak hiding most of his shame as Draco gaped. "If you don't wanna hear it, that's your fuckin' problem, you shitty prude!! If you've done it before and don't want to explain yourself, then you shouldn't have in the first place!! If I wanna say it, I'm gonna fucking say it and if anyone even **thinks** of stopping me this time, I'll rip their pecker and balls and/or clitoris off with my **teeth**!!! MONGOLIAN CLUSTER FUUUUUCK!!!!"

Dead silence greeted the outburst, followed shortly by the turning of many heads and eyes that landed on the seething dragon and fallen aristocrat, the confused boy in the middle. For a moment, nothing was said as they all tried to figure out who had screamed the profane phrase. The dragon, in their view, could not speak, the aristocrat was erm…occupied…and the boy was too shocked and confused to have said it. It wasn't until Galaxy had muttered something along the lines of 'uptight prudes' and something to do with sticks and donkeys that the crowd realized that the dragon could speak.

--

As Lockhart dove for Harry, an insuppressible instinct boiled in Stingchu's gullet, taking in the man headed for them. In a split second, he saw the man's portraits, the tilt of his hat, and the way he grinned, pearly teeth gleaming in an almost predatory fashion, and his left hand snapped forward of its own accord just as his more polite side began to realize what kind of person Lockhart was. Unfortunately, his more instinctual side had figured it out first and…

Ritten, now a long, black cobra coiled loosely around his arm, hissed as a low, menacing rumble came from Stingchu's throat. Lockhart's hand, the one reaching for Harry, had stopped inches from the young boy's shoulder, and was rapidly turning a pale hue, starting with the knuckles.

"H-hello, sir" Lockhart said genially, not missing a beat "would you mind letting go of my hand? I can understand the pressure of being young Mr. Potter's bodyguard, but-AAARGH!!!" In the moment that Stingchu's brain registered that the man was talking down to him, a more primal side of his psyche had taken momentary control of the hand holding Lockhart's arm and tripled the pressure it was exerting. Lockhart's scream just barely covered the loud crack coming from his wrist as Mrs. Weasley made a disapproving exclamation.

"Eh?" Stingchu blinked at the man "why are you screaming?" Ritten, still in snake form, emitted a strange sort of laugh that was periodically punctuated by a hiss. "Oh, **I** did that, didn't I?"

Within the next few minutes, the books for Harry, the Weasleys and Hermione had been bought and paid for, and they were just beginning to navigate their way through the bookstore while everyone else was too busy fussing and milling over Lockhart when they were stopped. The Grangers had separated from the group with Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley and the twins had also been cut off by a small crowd. That left the four younger children and Ritten under Stingchu's watchful eye. Fortunately, he managed to get them through the crowd quite easily and just as they were headed for the exit, they hit a snag.

--

"Harry!" Galaxy's slightly anxious voice came from somewhere toward the entrance to the store. Concerned, Harry turned, barely ready in time to catch the mini-dragon as he leaped into his owner's chest. "Help" he squeaked, voice muffled by Harry's chest as his tail curled around the young Vizor's arm in a plea for reassurance "those fucking prudes won't stop following me!!"

"Well, well, if it isn't Harry Potter?" Draco's voice was enough to heat up Harry's temper, jostling it from its restful dormancy.

"Malfoy" Harry nodded curtly instead of calling him one of the many nasty words Stingchu had taught him. Galaxy turned to the young aristocrat with a slight dread, scowling. Ron's face paled as Hermione turned stiff, Ginny staring at their reactions curiously.

"Go fuck a lamppost" the little dragon quipped, earning a scathing look from Stingchu, red cheeks from Hermione and Ginny (who turned crimson), and a snort from Ron. Harry managed not to burst into laughter while Ritten, now in puppy form blinked, his head cocked to the side as a new word entered his somewhat limited vocabulary. Draco paled slightly, his mouth quirking into an irritated half-frown as he glared at Galaxy, who was still sheltering himself in Harry's arms.

"Nice **pet**, Potter" Malfoy sneered, earning an outraged glower from the intelligent dragon "where'd you find it, in a swamp?"

"Fuck you" Galaxy snarled before his owner could respond, having climbed onto Harry's shoulder, the glint in his eyes dangerous. "You hypocritical bastard, calling **me** a pet. You're the one who follows your papa's every command. I, at least, have the decency to have my **own** personality."

For a moment, Draco looked confused, almost shocked by the lack of swearing in Galaxy's come back, before what he'd been told registered and he seemed to turn thoughtful. It was a sight that left the three of the group who knew him staring in shock; Draco actually did not have anything to reply with, and was thinking about what someone else was saying? Harry had just asked Ginny to pinch him when another voice slid into the paused conversation, a voice that made Stingchu growl quietly.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Harry Potter." Lucius remarked as his hand crept onto Draco's shoulder, latching itself there as the young boy froze, skin white as milk. "Oh, and who's this? You must be Weasleys" he said their surname with an almost searing contempt that left the emanchu standing right in back of them bristle with hatred. Stingchu was watching the emotions run around in the eyes of the man's son, and he was sorely tempted to just take out his katana, but Ritten's heart beat on his shoulder reminded him that he was in front of innocent eyes. "You must be the Mudblood Granger" the aristocrat said, smirking as she paled "and…" he looked at the dark figure behind them at last "you are…?"

"I'll tell you truthfully some day soon" the emanchu said in a quiet tone that carried "probably right before I rid the world of the last shred of you." Lucius' following glare was cold, but there was a glint of fear and uncertainty floating there.

"What a group" the aristocrat muttered "so full of filthy blood."

"What a father" Stingchu hissed back "so full of hatred for his own blood. Do you hit him because he doesn't live up to your expectations, or because he protests to some of your orders?" Lucius Malfoy's hand tightened on his cane as his gaze became murderous, Draco flinching as his father's grip tightened on his shoulder painfully.

"There you are, Ron, have you seen-" Arthur's voice died in his throat as he spotted Lucius Malfoy, his neck going mulberry as his glare sharpened to a knife, the twins noting the reaction with a semi-curious fascination.

"Weasley" the frigid tone made the color of the man's neck darken further "I've heard the Ministry's been quite busy lately with a number of raids; they must be paying you double…although…" he took a tattered Transfiguration book from Ginny's cauldron, eying it distastefully "from the looks of this, that must not be much…"

"Says the dick who knows what a Mongolian Cluster Fuck is." Galaxy quipped, teeth showing as his lip curled away from razor-sharp teeth, twisting the smile into a grimace. This time, Draco's flinch was a wince that did not escape Hermione's notice; she stared at the slightly fearful expression on his face in confusion, before realization hit her.

"What undignified company you keep, Weasley; I didn't know your family was so low that-" Lucius' next words were cut off as Arthur launched himself forward, brushing Draco out of his father grip, his fist hitting the aristocrat's pale jaw with an audible crack. As the two men fell towards the crowd, the people behind them surged backward, Draco falling away. He was going to fall completely down when Stingchu caught him by the elbow, yanking him up completely by using the scruff of his robes.

"Alright there, young one?" The emanchu asked, his voice now serene as he addressed the younger, paper-pale Malfoy. Draco stared at him incredulously, nodding as his shock began to tune out the rest of the noise around him. "Listen well, then" he leaned down a little closer, forcing his aura to exude **only** kindness "the next time your father beats you, if you've had enough, take this amulet, open it, and say to it 'help me'." Draco stared up at the emanchu, shaking.

"Don't tell anyone" he whispered harshly "please." The emanchu nodded immediately, Ritten mewling quietly, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. Fortunately for the shaken Draco, no one had even noticed the conversation take place and he'd managed to regain his composure just as Hagrid broke up the fight, Molly scolding her husband for public brawling as Lucius flung the young girl's book back into her cauldron. Stingchu blinked as he saw two books go in; hadn't there been only one?

The elder Malfoy stormed away with a command to Draco to follow him. The younger aristocrat glanced at the emanchu once before briskly walking out after his father. Stingchu watched them go, a vague fury painting the features beneath the mask as his hand tightened on the sheath of the katana at his hip. Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice that everyone had regrouped and that they were about to leave. When he did, he remembered the second book.

"Wait" Stingchu said softly to Ginny, who all but leaped into the air at the address. He smiled gently, though it was unseen, and reached into her cauldron, taking out a plain, black, nameless paperback; it looked rather like a simple records book, only… "This wasn't here before" Stingchu stated, opening the book one-handedly.

The next instant, he hissed, flinging the book to the floor. One blindingly fast movement came from his hands and his sword flashed out, running through the book with a blinding speed. The book emitted a low, echoing scream as ink spurted from where the sword had pierced it, looking disturbingly like blood coming from a wound. The others stared at the occurrence, Ginny paling as she looked up at Stingchu.

"What was that?" She asked in a very small voice, shaking slightly. He stared at her for a moment, anger still swirling furiously in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't give a shit" he replied as he picked it up "it can't hurt you now." With that, he ripped it in half and stuffed one half into each of his trench coat's pockets.

--

Meeting Lucius Malfoy had awakened an ocean of hatred in Stingchu's core that he had not felt in quite some time. He reminded the emanchu of his 3rd adopted child; a young girl named Serena. Her father was a prestigious political figure who took pleasure in beating his wife and child and often used the most venomous methods to gain what he wanted. The girl had almost committed suicide under his care; he had not noticed the signs, still unfamiliar to the traumas of abuse victims, and he'd never been quite the same after that, even if he'd managed to save her. He clutched Ritten protectively the whole way home, a furious fire rushing through his veins as he thought of young Draco Malfoy.

--

The last night Harry spent in the Burrow was a calm, nearly serene affair as the Weasleys spent time enjoying each others company for the last time until the holidays. Normally, by now they would all have gone off to their own private affairs, but he was surprised to find that they all stuck to the den, talking about events long past and laughing. Even Percy seemed upbeat as he recalled stories about the twins that he would typically be scowling at.

Overall, he should have felt excluded, but both he and Aaron were kept in the loop as they eagerly told them little secrets and blackmail material that caused several of them to burst into squawks of indignation. In the end, only Stingchu was left out of the conversation, sitting in a chair next to the window with a dozing human Ritten in his lap, silent until finally Ron attracted his attention.

"Oi, Stingchu? You got any family?" Stingchu froze, turning toward them jerkily with a start, as if caught off guard by the sudden personal question.

"Yes, I did" he said quietly after a long pause, turning toward them fully "but it was a very long time ago, before you were born."

"What do you mean was?" Aaron piped up, catching the hint in his speech "where are they now?" The emanchu went very, very still at the question, fighting an urge to scream the reawakened heartache in their faces.

"Gone" Stingchu said in a quiet, almost child-like voice "taken before their time…before I could see my child." The temperature almost seemed to fall as they realized the implications in his words, all the happiness gone from the evening.

"Well, if you were never a father, then how come…" Mrs. Weasley seemed unable to finish the question, glancing at the sleeping Ritten, snuggling into his 'papa's' chest even further.

"I've raised plenty of children no one cared about." He replied "after a while, you can't help but feel like they're all your own flesh and blood. My real family, though" he paused "they were gone a very long time ago." He shrugged "I'll tell you about them maybe, but much later…when it's alright for me to do what I'm going to…" He turned back to the night beyond the window after that promise and was no longer bothered after that.

--

Author's Notes: How was it? Good, bad, ugly? As stated previously, this chapter isn't as polished as most of the others, so there are gonna be awkward spots; bear with me. Also, when Stingchu seems to be tossing a bunch of random, meaningless words to Snape, it's not really just gibberish. I used an internet translator to go from English to Dutch (for anyone who speaks Dutch, I apologize for horrendous grammar), although I don't think you'd want to know what he's saying. About the end, I'm sorry if it gave you the wrong impression - Stingchu is in no way, shape or form a killjoy. You'll come to know this very well soon. As always, review judiciously; they encourage me to write better, and more, which means more reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: To all those sorely abused readers currently reading, I'm so sorry this took so long. I truly had no idea how long it'd be to continue writing, but I didn't want to half-ass it! So, here you are, and my most sincere apologies for the delay!

Disclaimer: Have you noticed that I don't own Harry Potter yet, or do I have to bring Mr. Cinder Block the Memory Helper into this?

--

The morning of September 1st dawned peacefully, with Stingchu waking Ritten up for a morning feeding. The little Animalgum was drinking more and more of his formula every day, and growing as quickly as Stingchu expected him to. In a few months, he'd have to buy the little darling bigger human baby clothes, or make them if necessary (or if he preferred it). After a generous helping of the formula and a short burping, the babe fell back to a peaceful slumber in his crib and the emanchu turned to Aaron, waking him by tossing some magically-conjured, ice-cold water in his direction. The teen barely bit back a vehement curse as he remembered that Ritten was probably asleep and merely got up groggily, angrily bolting from the room for the bathroom, brushing angrily by the emanchu who was carrying both a wicked grin and a dripping bucket.

In the end, the boy would thank his unusual alarm clock; it was thanks to Stingchu he'd been able to pack early and stay ahead of the game. After Aaron left the room, Stingchu followed his example, though he headed for the room at the top of the stairs, jumping over a creaky step right at the top of the second landing. Harry at first groggily brushed off Stingchu's wake up call, but when Stingchu had mentioned packing, his eyes had snapped open and he was up in a flash, collecting his items and putting them in his trunk. He left the boy to do so, chuckling lightly in amusement.

Looking up at a nearby clock, he then headed outside, running into a nearby forest. He had just enough time for a smoke…

--

By the time he returned, the Weasleys were in a frenzied rush, scrambling and screaming as they rushed and milled like a surging ocean, the younger Weasleys packing while the older two finished their preparations for the trip to Muggle London. Stingchu managed to avoid the hubbub by crawling along the ceiling to reach his room, entering to see Aaron double-checking his trunk calmly for anything he might have forgotten.

"Ready?" The young boy looked up, before nodding absently and closing his trunk. Stingchu stepped inside and let him pass, closing the door. Pulling off a glove, he put his red hand on the floor and took a calming breath. For a moment, nothing happened, but then a red glow burst through the room. The leaves rustled deafeningly as they receded, sucked up by the wall in a bizarre imitation of a straw's mechanism. The grass seemed to grow backwards, shrinking until it sank beneath the floorboards while the yellow glow of the ceiling shattered, evaporating into nothingness. Soon, all that was left was the two beds on either side of the room, his backpack and the crib, with Ritten inside.

Shouldering his pack, he picked the slumbering little Animalgum up with one gentle hand, taking one last, sweeping look at the room before leaving.

--

The ride to King's Cross was rather uneventful, though slightly rushed. They arrived in the station with 10 minutes to spare and made it to the barrier with 6 minutes to spare; plenty of time for them to board. They made it to the train largely without a hitch; except for the brief moment Stingchu spent alone outside the barrier feeling along the stone barrier and tapping certain areas with his fingers, a manic grin hidden by his mask. Other than that, it was a rather uneventful last few moments for Aaron and Stingchu, who watched Harry and Weasleys say their good byes to the two adults.

Afterwards, however, when Stingchu stepped up to board the train himself, things immediately shifted away from the realm of boring.

--

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't allow you to board unless you are a staff member of the train, or a teacher of Hogwarts." Stingchu refrained from sighing, blinking up at the apologetic, sweet lady pushing the cart of sweets. Unfortunately, the submissive effect of the expression was lost behind the mask…

"Well, if it helps, I'm against any rules that exist in the first place, so no rules really apply to me, except for the ones about medicine and even those commit suicide in my case sometimes." She stared at this reply, before repeating her former statement and shaking her head apologetically. Ritten chose that moment to awaken, and stared up at the woman from Stingchu's arms with sleepy, shining eyes. His small yawn alerted Stingchu to the fact that he was awake, and he gently pet the mussed hair down to a slightly neater state. The little Animalgum giggled happily, before turning to the cart lady with glistening, wide eyes, his plump cheeks dimpling as he smiled widely.

Sure enough, the woman, who was coincidentally a mother of two and grandmother of five, crumbled under the sweet expression, her resolve weakening. "His big brother is on the train" Stingchu said with a grin "I wanted to make sure he got to the school safely; it's his first time being away from home so long." Stingchu refrained from maniacal laughter as she ate up his blatant lies, nodding and allowing him to enter. As if sensing what she'd done, Ritten cooed at her happily, hands hugging his daddy's protective arms.

They left the cart lady in a daze, overwhelmed by the cuteness Ritten had displayed. As soon as they were out of earshot, Stingchu held the little Animalgum at arm's length, grinning wildly. "That was a beautiful move, son" he said affectionately "but I think the last part was overkill." Ritten merely smiled back, his expression almost disturbingly sneaky.

--

"Somehow, I'm not really surprised" Harry stated in a deadpan as the other three stared at the emanchu standing in the doorway.

"Can you really blame me?" He asked sweetly, before placing a now kitten-form Ritten in his lap. "I'm going to go find Aaron. I don't want anyone giving him any trouble and to tell the truth he's just way too lonely sometimes." Harry nodded, turning his attention back to his 'little brother' as his guardian promptly disappeared. The little kitten stared up at him with a shining, astonishingly cute expression, and Harry's calm expression faltered as he squirmed at the disturbing sight.

"Ugh…" Galaxy muttered groggily from Harry's shoulder, looking down painfully at the kitten Animalgum with bleary, glazed eyes "it's too early for cute…"

--

The sudden and quite unexpected appearance of Stingchu in the compartment nearly shocked Aaron out of his skin; it was disturbing, sometimes, how the emanchu managed to just appear out of thin air. The bastards surrounding him, however, merely snarled at the dark figure of his mentor, smirking as they rounded on him.

"Look what the cat dragged in" one of them commented, smiling wickedly.

"Not a cat" Stingchu replied automatically "they don't like getting near me…well, not anymore…" The immediate nature of the statement and its content succeeded in confusing the hell out of them all. To say that the comment was disturbing as well would've been an understatement, but he didn't stop there… "Actually, I dragged myself in here, but then again I could say it was the voice in my head, or even the ghost that follows me around. All in all, I think matches and napalm are fun to play with, and looky here" he pulled out a bottle of clear liquid from his coat pocket "I happen to have some napalm right here!"

With a lightning fast motion, he'd smashed the bottle open and the bullies were instantly soaked. "Oooh, matches!" He stated happily, holding up a small pack, shaking it to indicate that he still had a few left. Needless to say, Aaron and Stingchu were the only ones left in the compartment after that.

"Was that really napalm?" Aaron asked, staring at the empty bottle skeptically.

"You don't really think I would waste any of my napalm on little nasties like those, do you?" Aaron blinked at the answer, before chuckling.

"It was water, wasn't it?"

"Slow-activating, industrial-grade drain-cleaner, actually…"

"A bit extreme, if I say so myself" Aaron said, a slightly disturbed expression on his face. "You could've had the same reaction with just rubbing alcohol, you know?"

"Yep, but rubbing alcohol can be washed off…" Aaron gave him a long, surprised stare, his face twisting into a faintly sympathetic grimace, before he smirked lightly.

"Ouch…"

--

The four welcomed Aaron back from his brief absence as if he'd never left. Stingchu was delighted by this, but even more so by the fact that Ritten had gone missing without any of them noticing. He nearly bawled with pride at this information, before following the Animalgum's scent trail as a precaution; he trusted the sneaky devil, but it was better safe than sorry… Fortunately, he did not have to go far to find signs that the little creature had passed by.

The first indicator was that a nearby compartment door's window had been shattered, the lock broken beyond all recognition into small metal shards. Stepping in, he was hard pressed to keep from laughter at the sight of the inside; it looked like a tornado had attacked it, followed by a pack of rabid animals, topped off by a fire-breathing dragon. The small 'package' of stinky brown on a nearby seat cushion was a nice touch. Needless to say, it was incredibly funny and made him look forward to whatever had been on his son's mind next. He didn't have to look very hard or very long.

Millicent Bulstrode, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe were stuck to the ceiling. No, seriously; as in, I-got-glued-to-something stuck. Crabbe and Goyle were covered in lipstick, blush, eyeliner and eye shadow that clashed horribly with not only one another, but both their skin tones and made an almost disgusting-mermaid effect. Millicent had glasses, a mustache and pimples painted onto her in such an artful way that for a moment, he thought the mustache was real. As if that wasn't enough, the little imp had managed to change their hair color; Millicent was sporting a green not far removed from boogers, Crabbe a silvery pink color and Goyle was perhaps the worst of all, with his hair mimicking the colors of the rainbow. This, however, was not the icing on the cake.

The piece de resistance had just recently been finished, apparently, because the culprit was still at the scene of the crime. Indeed, he was in kitten form, sitting in the lap of the girl Stingchu had seen in Ollivander's. The victim had been embedded into the nearby floor by one foot stuck deep beneath the floorboards. He was whining uncomfortably, probably due to the fact that his other foot had been shoved behind his head in an awkward (and probably painful) position, leaving his precious family jewels in a rather precarious place, especially considering that his hands had been glued together and pushed back over his head to embrace his neck and the foot already there. It left the boy with no way to keep from slipping farther into the hole, or prevent the floor from rising higher up… Somehow in all the commotion that had undoubtedly lead to the end product, Ritten had also managed to tar and feather the poor boy, who'd obviously never seen it coming judging by the confusion mixed in with the utter 'piss-my-pants' terror...with the 'piss-my-pants' part being literal...

"There you are Ritten" he said loudly, attracting the mischievous Animalgum's attention. He also scared the wits out of the girl, who emitted a semi-terrified shriek, clutching the little kitten tightly to her while simultaneously cringing away. For a moment, Stingchu just blinked at her reaction, before reaching up to pat his face. "What?" He asked "did I forget to put my mask on, or am I naked**except** for the mask?"

"Wh-what?" She managed, now looking horrified by the thought as her cheeks turned pink. He ignored her, however, looking himself over carefully.

"Nope, not naked, and I've still got my mask on" he said plainly "well, actually I think I may have forgotten my boxers, but it's not like anyone can tell…" The girl blanched at his words, before going completely red in the face at what she was hearing. "There you are…"

She shrieked again as his face was suddenly inches away from the purring kitten clutched to her chest. "Have you been up to every nasty little thing you thought of, honey?" He asked as he picked up Ritten, who immediately changed into a puppy that looked up at him innocently. He laughed, patting the Animalgum over the head affectionately as the girl shook in mixed shock and fear "now, now, there's no need to try that with me; I love what you've done to them, but keep practicing and you'll fool anyone!" He grinned at the puppy that flashed him a disturbingly sneaky smile that remained unseen but for the twisting of his mask, before turning to the girl. "What's your name, kiddo?"

"I'm Athena…" she managed in a squeak, staring up at him and shaking before quickly looking away.

"Do you like what my son did to Mr. Gymnastic Failure Chicken over there?" She seemed confused by his reference, following the indicating thumb's direction to look upon the boy, who seemed quite frantic now that he'd slipped closer to the floorboards by a couple more centimeters. For a moment she almost grinned, biting her lip to keep from laughter before regaining her composure, eyes twinkling.

"He's your son?"

--

Upon hearing the girl knew no one on board, Stingchu refused to leave her alone, leading her back to the compartment she'd been in to fetch her things. The students already there sneered at the open door, before blanching to a near-white hue. For a moment, Stingchu just stared at them, before recognizing who they were.

Athena stared nervously at the emanchu as his sinister chuckle turned into psychotic laughter. Even more embarrassing was when he fell to the floor after losing the ability to stand, and it was only made worse by the echo Ritten's babyish giggling made. She gathered her things as quickly as possible, and then helped (half-pushed, half-dragged, rather) a still-weak Stingchu hobble out the compartment, a yapping Ritten following in puppy form. The students, still oblivious as to what had been thrown on them earlier, just sighed in relief as the danger exited. Moments later, they all shivered, gripping each other in fear as a girly, tortured scream echoed from where the emanchu and girl had come from.

--

As Harry exited the train, he was not particularly surprised to hear several cries of shock. He didn't even as much as stumble when the first of a chorus of pained, horrified shrieks ripped into the night air behind him. He merely glanced over to the masked, maniacally giggling Stingchu and sighed heavily before following a group of older students to the carriages, pulling Ron and Hermione behind him.

As for Stingchu, he didn't know what he was up to or what he'd done. The nutty bastard had said something about skinny dipping once he'd stopped giggling that Harry had chosen not to hear and, quite honestly, didn't want to know about any of it. As Galaxy said about the emanchu before, it just wasn't worth it.

--

Skipping over to the nearby shrubbery, Stingchu gently placed Ritten on the ground before doing the same to his pack…and his gloves…and his boots…and…well now, this is quite the scene. To put it simply, Stingchu suddenly went commando…as in completely and utterly stripped. Not even a maple leaf for the 'privies'. At least he found out that he had, indeed, forgotten his boxers earlier.

With a stern command from 'daddy', Ritten went into the folds of the abandoned cloak. Initially, he pouted with crossed arms but speedily gave in, nodding before ducking into the cloth. Stingchu himself turned to the lake. With a tremendous laugh, he launched himself through a pair of trees and straight into the lake with a loud splash. Nearby, the first-years in the boats seemed nervous at the sound, looking about in the foggy darkness for the source…which tipped their boat right over.

--

Minerva McGonagall was struck dumb by the scene before her; one confused Hagrid, several wet, shivering students, a masked dark figure that seemed to be radiating waves of smugness and a bouncing babe smiling handsomely up at her from the figure's arms. Curiously, the masked figure bounded in with no invitation and immediately struck up a one-sided conversation with the strict transfiguration teacher.

"Your lake is so pristine and luuuurvely, but maaaaan, that squid is a peeeer**vert**! He tried to grab me by the ass, the fucking poofter! Anyway, mind if I come in? Oooohh, nice place, a bit chilly, but niiiiice. Well, since I just went swimming nekkid, I require hot soup!" He struck a pose "come, Ritten!! Tonight we feast on SOUP!" He then tickled the little babe a bit, making him giggle "and then, a bedtime story and sleepy time, how does that sound, sweets?" McGonagall just stared as the figure continued toward the Great Hall, for once not wanting to know who or what had just invaded Hogwarts…

--

Fortunately for any first year that fateful night, the sorting ceremony had not yet begun when Stingchu made his grand entrance, kicking the doors open and all but **frolicking** in as if he were in a field of flowers, all the while singing about sunny, pure mornings and hot, naughty nights. The not-yet-sorted first years were spared from the aneurism of any semblance of normality this caused, but not the others; no, the rest of Hogwarts had gone deathly silent as the emanchu finished his 'dance' with a shake of his butt, holding a laughing Ritten in the air. A ghost's fart could've been heard in the deafening silence, and for a moment it seemed that Stingchu's entertainment for his son had destroyed every sane brain cell in the room, but…

"Excuse me…" Dumbledore said quietly, his expression concerned "may I ask what you are here for?"

"SOUP!!!" He bellowed, pumping a fist into the air. Ritten, confused at first, promptly followed his father's example, although…

"OOP!!" He cried, pumping a little fist into the air with a stern expression on his face. For a moment, the sane brain cells of the room continued their mass suicide, until…

"Erm…Stingchu?" Harry intoned meekly "you can sit with me…"

--

"It's not like that" Stingchu replied to the ghost "I'm just sayin' it's a bit impolite not to just continue to the sparklers; I mean, come on, by all accounts you probably missed at least 4 reincarnations! Even if you gave up your soul to the afterlife, it's not like your memory ain't here, is it?"

"Well I never!!" Nearly Headless Nick turned in a huff, his cape blowing through Neville to make the boy quake, and floated away.

"You really shouldn't have done that, you know?" Harry growled from the side, shaking his head.

"I'm just tellin' the truth is all" he replied.

"Maybe, but you're not taking into account his feelings, are you?"

"Pah!" Stingchu waved a hand dismissively as his other fed another spoon of soup into Ritten's mouth "to the dead, the only purposes are memory and afterlife. It's dumb to cling when what comes next is so much more fun!" For a moment, Harry nearly choked on his kidney steak.

"Wh-what??"

"I said" the emanchu replied firmly "that it's dumb to-"

"What do you mean, 'what comes next'?!" He yelled, paling to a papery white. For a moment, the next spoon remained suspended in the air, and Ritten huffed in annoyance as he reached for it hungrily. Around them, several other students were staring.

"Sleeping in The Energy, and then coming back to The Awake." He answered cryptically, halting Harry's next question with a raised hand "things better left unsaid to mortals who've not yet learned to prevent destruction. As for him" Stingchu indicated the ghost with a nod of his head as the spoon moved once more "and the others as well, they know better and they think it's more than iffy. If you believe it's a no-no, then there's just no excuse."

"A…no-no?" Ron barely managed to restrain his laughter, hiding behind his pumpkin juice as he sensed Hermione's stern glare.

"Wait, but what were you talking abou-"

"Harry" Galaxy's claws were firm on Harry's forearm as he leaned up from the boy's other side "can't you tell" he whispered "that you're upsetting him?" Harry blinked down at him, before looking over at Stingchu still feeding Ritten with a maternal flair.

"What do you mean?" He asked "he looks just fine…" Galaxy shook his head, pointing at the emanchu's right elbow.

"His blade-arm's twitching…"

--

Predictably, as soon as the staff of Hogwarts decided to approach Stingchu, he'd vanished in a blur of black that snaked out the door at amazing speeds, taking a now drowsy Ritten with him. Equally frustrated was Hermione, who'd wanted to grill him on anything and everything from the start. Once Harry mentioned his sleeping habits, she'd planned to catch him off guard, but judging by the smugness of Galaxy's look, a private interrogation was impossible. The Hogwarts teachers would also have to wait until that next morning to get anything from him.

--

"Good morning!!" The cheery exclamation almost shocked Dumbledore into an early death; he hadn't sensed, nor heard, an approaching presence; the black figure had neatly, and suddenly, dropped down from the ceiling to a crouch on his desk. For a few moments, there was silence as Dumbledore stared into the goggles of Stingchu's disguise, before responding to the surprise as best he could.

"Good morning" he managed after a long pause.

"Wonderful weather isn't it?" He asked, not letting the old human answer "I woke up this morning and thought it was just the perfect day!" Outside, rain was coming down in massive sheets and every so often, monstrously loud booms of thunder could be heard groaning through the castle. "I just couldn't understand why some of the students are still cowering in their rooms instead of dancing naked under the clouds!" He turned to Dumbledore's mortified face upon finishing the sentence "it's really the best thing on such a wonderful day; it stimulates all sorts of reactions; in fact, most people in my village were conceived on rainy days! On the ground!!"

As if he hadn't mortified the old man enough, Stingchu then turned to Fawkes, chopping the bird's head off with his sword. Instantly, Fawkes burst into flames. "Weee!!!" He squealed as he watched the fire excitedly and, as the newly reborn chick peaked up out of the mound of ashes, jumped through the window with a resounding crash, plummeting down 50ft feet and breaking into 3 separate chunks at the bottom. Two minutes later, he was back up and shrieking in laughter as he ran in startling fast circles in front of the school, waving his sword in the air above him.

--

After breakfast, Stingchu had been invited to the staff meeting as the focus. Agreeing, he was presently situated on the main table in the staff lounge…in a handstand, small lights floating around his head to make funny faces at a giggling, clapping Ritten. As the upside-down face stuck its tongue out for the tenth time, Snape stepped in, and then froze at the sight greeting his eyes.

"Who are you?" He hissed acidly, eyes narrow as he looked down his nose at the emanchu (well, tried to; it's not easy when the other person's upside down). The lights changed, turning the face right-side up, to show a raspberry blowing at Snape in a right side up position.

"I'm yo' momma!" He remarked, pointing at the irritable Potion's master obnoxiously, managing to balance on his head as he put his other hand rested on his hip. "Who're you, the Dracula-that-the-English-bitch-man-kills-with-like-no-effort-after-you-manage-to- completely-and-utterly-defeat-anyone-who's-even-thought-of-killing-you? Or are you just a sissy-boy who wants to be a vampire that's like the uber-strong-I-win-in-the-end-because-I'm-just-awesome-and-got-the-girl-and-I-killed-the-English-pussy-too-because- I'm-the-real-thing-and-I-kick-ass-like-that-Dracula?" For a moment, not even Snape could figure out what Stingchu had asked and it took him some time to just think as the emanchu returned to Ritten, amusing the little babe once more by flailing his hands as a goofy face appeared in the lights.

When Snape did, however, discern the question behind all the hyphens (which had been emphasized by much upside down hip-shaking and finger-snapping), his face turned crimson in anger, the veins on his neck jumping against his sallow skin. His mouth wide in a rictus of coming fury, Snape was all but knocked over as Dumbledore tamely spoke from behind him.

"Good morning Professor Snape." He said pleasantly, smiling at the back of the now-coughing man's head "would you like a lemon drop?"

"Ah!!" Ritten exclaimed as he turned to the candy in Dumbledore's hand "ah!! Ah!!" Dumbledore smiled before walking over and giving the sweet to the Animalgum, staring if only momentarily at Stingchu in amusement. As he did so, he did not miss the sweet smile Ritten gave him as he hugged the candy to his chest. Behind him, the other teachers walked into the classroom, staring in turn at the upside down Stingchu, who waved in a very princess-like fashion from his position, knees locked together in a girlish position.

--

They'd laid it all out for him very pleasantly; no murder or thievery (of any way, shape or form) was allowed on the grounds. In addition, he was advised not to enter the Forbidden Forest and not to pull pranks in excess, or be overly disruptive. Other than that, and no streaking in public (and a rather frank plea not to skinny-dip in the daylight), he could stay. They even asked if he knew how to teach magic (though they didn't have any openings he seemed able to fill).

"I wanna teach a voluntary Saturday session!" He exclaimed "for absolutely no money, but for whatever pops up in my head!!" After a moment (and after seeing their expressions) he added "no lewd or excessively violent topics!!" They all looked uncomfortable about it (especially Snape), but no protest sprang up, so Dumbledore hesitantly nodded, his smile only slightly tight. "YEEESS!!! Come, Ritten!! We must announce our new job!! Every being in this castle shall know if it's the last thing they hear!!" With that, they were gone, leaving Hagrid to question the empty air…

"Wha'd 'e mean by 'the las' thing dey'll 'ear'?"

--

Author's Notes: So, how was it this time? Is it better, or still half-assed? Did you blast your colon from your anus in laughter, or die of boredom? Please, review as I am the review whore and am encouraged by your messages!!


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note(s): As promised on my deviantArt account (http://theinsaneconscience ). here's Chapter 8, before December. This chapter should make clear my reasons for making this fanfiction rated so strongly, because of specific scenes in the story and an entire segment involving Stingchu. That said, this is one of the less funny of my chapters, though it still has some humor. Two future characters are also making a debut at the chapter's end, which I will explain at the end of this chapter. That said, enjoy.

Disclaimer: You'd have to be some kind of idiot if you thought I owned Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this shit.

--

Utter, stifling dread settled in Harry's stomach like a stone as a mouthful of pumpkin juice spewed into the air. He nearly turned into a ghost as he turned slowly to Stingchu; not even noticing Galaxy's attempt to wipe his now messy chin, or Ron's profuse cursing.

"What…did you say…?" He asked in a small, squeaky voice as the emanchu continued to feed an enthusiastic Ritten.

"I said, I'm teaching an extra class on Saturdays for anyone interested" he answered cheerfully, not turning from the little Animalgum for a moment. After Stingchu retrieved the spoon from Ritten's mouth, however, he gave a momentous twitch that jolted him from his seat, almost as if the bench had regurgitated him and he was promptly deposited on the floor, his head hitting the stone with a sickening crack.

There was no time for Hermione to scream in horror as blood poured from the back of his head. By the time they'd recognized the red liquid gushing from Stingchu's noggin, the emanchu had already leaped to his feet, heaved an entire platter laden with a huge stack of pancakes into one hand and hurled it with amazing strength…right at the staff table…

Wide-eyed, Severus Snape took the flying pancake cannonball straight in the face, unable to utter so much as a startled yell as the mound of syrupy, fluffy cakes sent his chair, and himself, falling backward. Arms flailing, legs locked, Snape could do nothing as the suffocating mound of deliciousness sent him to the ground with a bang. "Motherfucker!!" Stingchu yelled, sticking his middle finger out at the struggling Snape "try doin' that again and let's see what I fuckin' throw next, dick-weed!!!" For the second time in less than 24 hours, the Great Hall was as silent as a buried corpse.

--

It was almost 5 hours after the incident in the morning that Harry next saw Stingchu. The emanchu was sitting in the shade of a tree beside the lake, petting the tentacle the giant squid had laid docilely in his lap. His mask was off, which nearly gave the young Vizor a heart attack. That was long before Galaxy muttered into his ear about 'illusionary measures that are made to react to only those you wanted to be affected' and how all anyone else saw was a lake with a tree beside it - no squid, no undisguised emanchu. Despite the immediate relief, Harry was still unsettled by the utterly disturbing expression on Stingchu's face - it was something caught between a grin and a snarl, his eyes wide as he glared at the school.

"Stingchu, what are you doing? Why are you casting an illusion?" There was no response…at least, not at first…

"They're liars." He hissed lazily "I hate liars like these…" His smile grew "but I've been quite good at bending them before…I always was good at bending them all…"

"Stingchu…" it was disturbing "have you gone completely barking mad?"

"They keep trying to break in, little _Zishiko_…they keep trying to read your_ Bah'ri's_ thoughts…" Again, the strange hissing was heard, this time seeping into every nuance of his words…

"Stingchu" Galaxy spoke this time "have they been ganging up on your mind?" Stingchu just gave him an insane smile, like something from a horror story.

"Yes" was the simple answer "all of them…all of them…"

"How many?" Harry asked, not quite understanding…

"There must be…five? Yes, all five are going to meet the sun…" His babble was interrupted by a giggle that should not have been so sweet…

"Dear Yemis…" Galaxy whispered, claws digging into Harry's shoulder gently "there are five at once? You should not be conscious, much less resisting still. No matter how strong your defenses are, you…" Some great realization must've come to Galaxy, because he'd been silenced, staring at the emanchu in a dead shock. Stingchu laughed, horribly, forked tongue arching through the air once before retreating back into his closing mouth.

"Stingchu" Harry spoke up shakily "what's wrong? You're scaring the shit out of me…" His query earned him nothing but a lazy grin.

"I'll change the defense then, _Zishiko_…but warn them not to try to peek again…tell the dumb-bore…that what I'd promised in the forest might come to pass…" He then turned away, a small growl preceding his descent into sleep…if it was sleep at all…

--

"It's been some time since I've been around enough people to make redecorating necessary…" Stingchu smiled "at least since there were enough who were stupid enough to try…" He ripped off paper seal after paper seal surrounding the room, tacked to the walls. "I think I've missed the old times" he snickered as they evaporated into nothingness "back when I had too many attacking…" the light emanating from the walls turned from yellow and blue to a solid, crimson red "or before that when I was curious to see how the ones who tried would suffer - unique reactions and all that entailed. That was before my patterns began to write…"

Moments after the walls had changed their lighting, long black spikes had sprung from the ceiling and floor, and Stingchu danced around the room as they began to recede, then spring up again in a continuous circle. "Yes, even before that when I didn't give half a rat's flaming ass over it - when I was too angry, when I was too sad to breathe and especially when I was too lost in the confused crazy to think!" He paused, almost being impaled by a spike, to grin to himself "but of course, now I'm doing much more - I'm protecting my new _Zishiko_!" He skidded to a stop after leaping over another spike "wait, did I really just decide he was?" He then shrugged to himself "I guess I did; okay, then, on to more important business…"

The wall he had just landed in front of had turned into one full of plugs, cords and wires of every kind. He'd no sooner grabbed one than he was across the room, plugging it into a socket as the spikes sprang up behind him. "Port 13" he grinned maliciously "that is a fine place to put this memory…next, we need a thought…" In moments, another cord was hooked into the wall "Port 56…not bad, but" he switched its position "that's much better; they go after Port 20 a lot - since its dinnertime when they go after that one, then their appetite will also be affected since its that particular one…hm…now a dream…"

--

Plugs were attached to the other three walls, the ever-shifting ceilings and floors and even to the spikes as they sprang and retreated. The wall where the cords had come from was now humming, glowing with black energy. "It's been very, very long" Stingchu purred, petting the wall, which had turned into a fleshy mush, shuddering and twitching in satisfaction under its master's touch "you still work perfectly, old friend…" he purred, nuzzling the now-shifting masses as they began to form around him, swallowing him up. "Where's your master plug, my little one?" He asked in a coo "I need to fix that last bit up nicely, before I can set me on normal…"

Almost immediately, the piece of wall directly above him twisted, forming into a vaguely spherical shape. "There you are!" He exclaimed breathily as it dripped blood on him "such a sweet heart" he cooed as it sprouted what looked like several large, white spines. He reached out and cupped it in his hands. These actions revealed the jawbone onto which the 'spines' were attached. "Are you ready, sweetie?" He asked silkily, turning to the room ahead as the wall scooped him into a sit. It gurgled nastily in reply, spitting blood into the air as the room grew a fair distance away, the darkness flooding around him sitting on the flesh-seat. "That's my sweet one" he said, grinning in a twisted, nasty way, before plunging down, impaling his head on the fangs…

--

Stingchu awoke to the feel of the night in his fur, the squid's tentacle gone. He put his mask back on, before collapsing the illusion, and walking fully into the moonlight. His eyes were sharper, his ears straining and his nose a radio for scent. He tasted approaching dew-time in his throat as he breathed in, skin tingling at the slight chill seeping in through his disguise.

Looking up at the moon, he grinned wickedly…and headed for Gryffindor Tower.

--

"How was his day?" Stingchu asked as he watched Stingchu, fully disguised but for the mask, gently pick up Ritten.

"He was very happy, and enjoyed the butterflies in the forest. He loves these black-horse stink-piles." He added, grinning somewhat nastily "but when one got a bit pushy, he ripped the thing's jaw off. You'll laugh yourself into hysterics when you see it." The fully disguised Stingchu nodded, laughing quietly.

"He sure is the cutest little one you could ever pluck up out of an animal-store, isn't he?" The other nodded, petting Ritten's head.

"He still retains those animal-politics too; he won't take shit from anyone he thinks he can deal with…and whoever he can't deal with…well…"

"We can take care of that…" The undisguised matched the nasty, twisted grin hidden beneath the black one's mask. "What of Harry? Did he inform the stupid ones?"

"Yes" that one's eyes flickered angrily with annoyance "3 of them aren't listening…" The other laughed quietly, humorlessly.

"We should never care."

"Yes, we should not" his match agreed, though he was still troubled, unrelieved "but Galaxy troubles me."

"Oh?"

"It's not **what** he realized; it's that **it** had to be realized - to be figured out."

"Hm? You mean the age?"

"Yes" he replied "he's the smartest on the world now, and not at all limited in basic knowledge - after all, his builders where perfectionists. It should have been easy to him."

"Oh?" The masked one inquired, somewhat concerned "you mean they may not even know? Not even Harry?" The reply was clear by the look in the other's uncovered eyes. "That will be filled of anger, when it is figured out, that fact…"

"Yes" the one holding the babe replied flatly "it will be full of anger, but it will pass just like always, if we hold to our duties as a _Bah'ri_. That is all we must do." The mask nodded, agreeing and ending the argument.

"I am done with the arrangement; you may go back in. I've prepared your communications platform carefully this time, so that we don't get separated too much this time."

"Not too close, I hope" the other replied, placing Ritten gently back into the crib "I do not want us to confuse ourselves later. That was always a mess, especially with how many we've become."

"No worry" the masked one drawled, smiling much-too-sweetly "this is the only task you can trust me in…and only the important have say in that this time, **only** the important - even the not so steady are strangely focusing. They're excited for the change." The unmasked one snorted sarcastically.

"They would - it's the only time I let anyone of anyone out but me anymore." He faced the masked one fully "well, come in then and get it over with - we**are** going to have to feed Ritten in 5 hours and I want time for the cigarette smell to be gone from the clothes."

--

A burst of shadow later, there was only one Stingchu in the room. He stood carefully, cracking his back as he went. Walking over to the crib, he checked on Ritten again. Seeing that all was well, he gave the slumbering babe a peck on the cheek then turned and leaped through the window, feathers appearing in the night sky as he pulled his mask on…only this time the feathers were black…

--

"Stingchu……er" the emanchu just wasn't answering, staring up at the high table as if eager, waiting for something. Ritten, meanwhile, was fuming at his father; his daddy still hadn't moved the spoon any closer, and the little darling was close to doing something drastic, amethyst eyes cold and angry. Harry sighed after a long pause, deciding he was better off never knowing, and pushed the arm with the spoon forward so that the babe could successfully receive his cereal.

Seeing that the emanchu was absolutely unresponsive, however, Harry removed the spoon from the motionless hand, handing it over to an expectant Galaxy, who took over the task, making various airplane and train sounds as the feeding proceeded… Harry nudged the emanchu roughly, frowning as he finally got a reaction.

"Eh?" He turned to Harry in confusion "what? Am I on fire or something?" Harry decided to act as if the question had not been asked…

"You've been spacing out all day, and yesterday you acted like you were completely off your nut! What's going on?" For a moment, Harry almost thought he'd have to start hoping for an answer as Stingchu turned to the enchanted ceiling above him.

"I had to redecorate" he said simply.

"Redecorate?" Before Stingchu could answer the question, however, a piercing shriek shot through the air, effectively silencing the entire hall.

"MONSTER!!" Sybill Trelawney screamed "MONSTER!!!!" She repeated as she leaped from her seat, toppling it over in the process as she fled, pulling her hair out in clumps, wild-eyed and hysterical. As she fled, screaming, Professor Vector gave a tremendous moan, wide-eyed, ash-colored face falling in his mashed potatoes as he fainted. Severus Snape was barely noticed, seated like a porcelain statue, eyes slightly wide as Professors Sprout, McGonagall and Hagrid raced after the hysterical Trelawney. There was utter silence in the great hall and for a moment even Dumbledore was bewildered.

Stingchu's laughter was a bitter sweetness in the silence of the Grand Hall.

--

They'd gone through Slots 62, 109 and 4 - Trelawney, Vector, Snape - Memory, Thought and Memory. Snape had been the luckiest of the bunch - witnessing a time when Stingchu had been rather angry and had ripped out a heart and terrified the victim to death with it. Trelawney was just next in line - she'd seen him carrying out the torture of the man who'd raped his… Vector had gotten the worst - the thoughts he'd had just after Yemis' death - the ones involving what he would do to those responsible… All of them were rather harsh - in fact the only reason Snape's had been mild was because he did not have to experience the raging, unbridled fury the other two had. In a way, those earlier thoughts were so much harsher…

That was why Snape only had to stay overnight in the Hospital Wing. Vector was going to be sent over to St. Mungo's in the morning if he didn't wake up and Trelawney had to be sedated. If she didn't improve in three days, she'd be joining Vector. All these things combined added up to one thing - Stingchu seated in a comfy armchair across from Dumbledore in the Headmaster's Office.

It wasn't the fact that Stingchu was staring at Dumbledore that was disturbing the old man. It was the way he looked - the mask staring at Dumbledore - as cold and lifeless as the grin Stingchu wore beneath it was cruel. They'd been seated like that for almost 10 minutes, no word passing between, no thought and no mental probe - just silence.

"May I ask what exactly happened to Professors Trelawney, Vector and Snape?" It was said very politely, quietly and honestly.

"They peeked in after I redecorated." Of course, since when has being polite, quiet or honest ever helped when dealing with a complete loon?

"Redecorated?"

"Yup; I made things a lot more dangerous now - no more sissy protection that doesn't scratch back."

"Doesn't…scratch back?"

"Yeah - now, if you poke around, it beats you." He replied frankly, smile in place and obvious.

"You mean to say that when the Professors attempted to peer into your mind, you showed them horrific things?"

"No" he answered bluntly "it's awfully inefficient to deal with every little annoyance myself, so I decided to set up my automatic defense system."

"An…automatic defense system against Legillimency?" Dumbledore wasn't doing a good job of not looking astounded "I didn't know something like that was possible…"

"Not when you're limited by sanity." He didn't wait for the next comment "but in any case, I think I've pretty much proven how willing I am to keep all the me's to myself. If I were you, I'd remind your staff not to peek where their eyeballs don't belong and mention the same sort of thing to anyone else who might try their hand at maneuvering their eyeballs the same way."

There was a short silence during which they stared at one another, one waiting for the other to restore his composure, the other completely at a loss. "Well, if that's all, I have to go prepare for class - I think I've finally figured out what my first lesson'll be." Dumbledore didn't lift so much as a finger as Stingchu stood and walked straight out of the room with all the nonchalance to suggest that all he'd done was discuss the weather.

--

The only reason Stingchu spotted Harry at all was because of that horridly pink set of robes the new teacher was wearing. The material shone like a sunset in pitch blackness, and besides which was one of Leana's preferred colors. Because of his behavior towards Harry, however, Stingchu was forced to drastic measures in order to prevent the robes from being forever spoiled by the false grin they were attached to.

The loud ripping sound of torn material seemed to echo around the five figures on scene. As two of them still stared at each other in dumb confusion, the other three were suppressing laughter, the smallest rolling around on the floor as a puppy, trying to prevent himself from breaking the suspense. Stingchu's grin was wicked as he laid a lazy hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Hello, pink monkey" he greeted with a genial, booming voice "what might you be doing with Harry here?"

"Stingchu?" Harry blinked for a moment, at a loss. "Oh, right – I have to get to Herbology. This'll be my second time late because of him." Harry did not expect Lockhart to get a punch in the face for it. "Er…"

"You little bitch!!" The short emanchu yelled, no longer keeping his voice changed as he landed on Lockhart's stomach "I oughta gut ya with your own hands!!" He shook the now unconscious fraud by the collar, yelling various alien obscenities and curses in the dazed face.

"Stingchu, what the bloody hell are you doing?!" Harry yelled as he dragged the ballistic emanchu (with some difficulty) off the prostrate man in a full nelson. Silently, Harry thanked god he'd learned a little judo that summer. Galaxy was the one to stop the commotion, however, by smacking Stingchu straight on the nose with his tail in a fly-by.

"Would you get a hold of yourself, you nut?!" The little dragon raged as he landed on the ground between the angry emanchu and the unconscious professor "do you realize you're causing a scene!?" Stingchu went silent, and then took a brief, sweeping look at the grounds around him.

"How can I make one when no one's here to see it?"

"Keep making one and you'll have an audience soon enough!!"

"Uh…guys?" Harry's interruption was ignored.

"In the first place, what were you thinking!!?!"

"I was thinking he don't got no right to interfere with Harry's schoolin' like that!!" Stingchu yelled, pulling Harry of his feet mindlessly as he rose to full height.

"Yah!! Stingchu!!" Harry yelped as he was pulled straight into the air, hanging from the slightly taller emanchu like a backpack. Ritten then decided to take matters into his own hands, leaping forward and sinking small fangs into his papa's leg.

"…" Well, the slightly blank, nonplussed pause wasn't expected. However, that was the exact pose Stingchu had on, before lifting his injured foot to waist height, Ritten dangling from it like a bizarre puppet. There was a small silence… "Good boy, Ritten!" Stingchu finally exclaimed chirpily. "You stopped the crazy!"

He turned to Harry "you can let go if you want to know, you know. The crazy stopped." Soon, Harry was back on his feet, Ritten was cuddling up to Stingchu's chest in kitten form and Galaxy was trying to wake Lockhart without causing even more damage.

"WAKE UP!!!" SMACK!!

"Huh…?" Well…without causing more damage than Stingchu did. "What happened?"

"You were attacked by a rather large unicorn" Galaxy replied "I believe it was a black stallion. For some reason it seemed very angry with your robes."

"My robes? Oh, yes, well they are rather eye-catching" Lockhart muttered dazedly "aren't they?"

"Oh, my word, yes, but unfortunately they've been torn. You'll need to change out of them…"

"Pity, they were such fine robes…"

"Indeed, but before that you might want to stop by the hospital wing and have Madame Pomfrey check you over – just in case of a concussion."

"Yes – yes, you're absolutely right." As Lockhart walked away, it was all Harry could do to keep from laughing himself to death as Lockhart's rear shone in the brilliant sunlight.

--

"WHAT?!!?!" The roar of outrage was ignored – it had come from the one door on the entire floor from which a regular shout was heard. It was a near daily occurrence that the others in the offices had learned to deal with. The unusual nature of this day in particular however, was that after the roar, a gunshot – a loud, cracking pop – echoed down the corridor.

At the sound, every person in the vicinity bolted for their desks, for the closets, for the fire escapes, and every other conceivable hiding place they could find. A tall, lanky person with gray skin and white, wispy hair managed to remove one of the room's Styrofoam ceiling tiles and conceal himself in between the floors. He could be heard rushing along the ceiling away from the sound at an amazing pace. All this occurred within the space of a few split seconds.

The very moment after the last of them had hidden themselves, the door to the room from whence the roar had originated slammed open. A short, furry, dog-like person, eyes wide and terrified, ran out at breakneck speed, just barely out-pacing the fire threatening to engulf him and roast him alive. His clawed feet – paws rather – gouged deep trenches in the rug, evidence of his desperation to flee as a smattering of bullets flew past him to demolish a nearby ficus.

A tall, massive figure emerged from the scorched door frame, a long, metallic object weighing down his shoulder as he stormed out. He lifted it from his side, revealing the barrel of a familiar gun lifting again, and pulled the trigger, his black hair blowing out behind him as the backlash of a tremendous bang shook his frame, compressed air shattering the nearby windows. Furious, crimson eyes blinked hard, slit pupil dilating as the backlash faded. The red hair that stood perched upon the figure's head sprang back up as the air around him stabilized, and the taut, tense muscles relaxed in relief.

The orange scales faded to green as his anger cooled, and he watched the lucky creature flee – he'd missed on purpose after all. Crimson eyes faded to yellow and the crimson of his confused hair cooled to a snowy white crown topping the black silk that draped over and around his neck. The last of his anger finally faded, and the red markings around his eyes faded to a cold, icy blue not unlike the color of frost. A swift arm movement brought the gun to rest on his back and he stomped back to his office, slamming the slightly charred door back into place.

Spike Idra ran a hand over his black mustache, trailing it through his beard covering his rather long neck and turned to sit heavily in his chair, his long, whip-like tail slapping the wall in irritation. He flexed his hands again and again, letting the calming sensation of his retractable claws sliding across his scales soothe him into a more logical mood. Diagon would be coming in soon, and he needed to calm down or he might destroy more than a ficus and an entire section of sheet rock.

Finally calm to a reasonable point, he brushed the soot from his navy blue pants, bringing to attention his attire. It was a rather unusual shirt – the same color of as pants, its collar came up halfway up his long neck, dipping to his mid-chest, a strange emblem of what looked like a horned dragon just beneath that point. The sleeves were cut off at mid-bicep, with extending attachments secured by cloth held into place by silver x-shapes. The shirt extended to his mid-abdomen, with an undershirt of black fishnet stretched tight across his scales. The fishnet also covered his arms and legs to his wrists and ankles, and was only a bit looser than it was on the abdomen.

He also wore a rather thick leather belt to which several large, black, rectangular bags were attached. A dagger was securely holstered on his left hip, its handle clean and black. Like the gun, it looked well kept.

As the dragon continued shifting uneasily, several shapes seemed to press against his clothing. What was obviously the holster for a smaller gun showed up on his right thigh as he crossed his legs, pawed feet twitching as the claws slid in and out rhythmically. His forearms moved delicately as the wrists twisted, suggesting something pointy was tucked up those sleeves. His back was also hiding what was obviously a katana, the hilt hidden by the collar and the thick, straight black hair it blended with.

His nose, two slits at the end of a long muzzle, twitched suddenly as he detected a certain powder-blue furred being enter the building, and he hissed in displeasure as he prepared to deal his second greatest nuisance…

--

Diagon was not a very rational being. It stemmed from the fact that he hadn't been born in the existence he was living in, and also from the fact that he had lived much too long. Still, it didn't explain why he'd eaten an entire wooden chair before exiting the lobby. It didn't explain why he threw a vending machine into an empty elevator either. What **did** explain all of this was that he was almost as barking mad as Stingchu, and much less reserved.

True to form, he didn't even take any of the other three elevators. Instead, he vaulted off the floor, blasting through the ceiling. His claw-like fingers hooked onto the next floor's carpeting and he hoisted himself up, powder-blue fur dusted with gray. His paws hooked onto the carpeting and he fully rose to his feet to reveal that they were not paws at all – they were like an eagle's talons, sharp and fierce. He took a look around at the people staring at him, two jade green orbs glowing on a black background, before bending once more and leaping through the ceiling of that floor.

His head, pointed at the mouth into an almost beak-like shape, was perfect for the job, piercing through the sheet rock effortlessly. As he came to stand on the next ceiling, however, it became obvious that it was a rather messy form of transportation, this business with ceilings. For one, his nose – two narrow slits on either side of the end of the muzzle – kept snorting as if full with dust. His once-brilliant fur was dulled to a continuously grayer color – even the glowing purple rings on his neck, wrists, biceps, ankles, thighs and tail had been muted.

The large blood-red gems now circling around him glowed a moment before all the dust rose from him in a cloud and faded into nothingness. Tossing his head, he brought some attention to the top of his head, which sloped up into a sharp, horn-like point flanked on either side by two other similar points. Behind that point, thick black hair flowed down his back, most of it tied by bandages into a long ponytail almost as long as his real tail which was tipped at the end not by normal flesh but a long, thin jewel. Protruding from the tail, it was as blood-red as the other gems, but glowed with a different sort of fire, its three edges sharp as a sword's. The only other gem he had that outmatched it was the blood-red beauty embedded in his forehead, right between the eyes.

Opening his fanged mouth wide, a great white light burst into the air, tearing through the building at an amazing rate. Soon, there was a large hole leading upwards from the ceilings above him. He smirked as the veins in his neck throbbed with stress, before leaping through each and every one of the holes in an amazing display of acrobatics, stopping on the 46th floor.

--

"Spiiiiiiikeee!!!" The dragon sighed heavily, covering his eyes with a hand as the disturbingly childish voice rang out over the entire floor. Cries, yelps, mews and squawks of outrage could be heard coming from ever closer people as the familiar footsteps neared, and Spike had to groan, knowing exactly why others were so shocked by his appearance. "Spike!"

The blue monster slammed the charred door open…in the wrong direction and sent it flying off its hinges. Spike flipped out of his chair at amazing speeds, vaulting to the side to avoid the door headed for him.

"YOU LITTLE**BASTARD**!!!" He barked, brushing dust off his clothes as Diagon walked into the room.

"Hey, guess what!" Diagon asked, completely ignoring Spike's outburst as he walked in.

"Ugh, Diagon, please, would you just-"

"Wait! Guess!"

"Diagon, would you first please…"

"Are you gonna guess, or not?!!!"

"Alright, already!!" Spike snapped, his scales flashing a momentary orange. "Leana shoved Stingchu through a portal and we have no idea where he ended up, right?!" There was a short silence…

"How'd you know?! You must be psychic or ESP or something!"

"Diagon…"

"Wait a second, if you are, that means…" he gasped "have you been hiding something from us?!!"

"Diagon, would you-!!"

"You mother fucker!!" Diagon roared, eyes wild as he grabbed Spike by the front of his shirt, lifting him up high off the ground, his lanky frame rippling powerfully with the strength behind the single motion. "I THOUGHT WE AGREED – NO SECRETS!!"

"Bastard!!" Spike snapped again, scales orange and red, hair crimson as he struck out with his fist. He scored a powerful hit between Diagon's eyes, on the smooth plane of skull, and a resounding crack spread through the office as blood sprayed through the air.

Spike landed on his feet as Diagon stumbled backward, spitting blood as the wound healed instantly into nothingness, leaving behind only blood-stained fur. The next moment, Spike was dodging a lunge, drawing his dagger in preparation of the next attack as Diagon slammed into a nearby wall. "Shut the fuck up for a moment and listen, you shit-head!!!" Spike screamed into the dust coming from the destroyed wall "I am NOT PSYCHIC and **EVERYONE** HAS SOME KIND OF ESP!!!!"

"Really?" Diagon asked as he paused mid-step into another charge. "Everyone has ESP?"

"Yes" was the stiff reply as the white-knuckled grip Spike had on his dagger twitched dangerously to a lethal position.

"That means-!!!" Tears now poured down the happy, bloodied face "I'm ESP too!!!! YAAAY!!! We're ESP!!!" He cheered, hugging Spike 'round the middle as if he'd not just tried to kill the dragon. The dragon almost drove the dagger into the base of the blue monstrosity's spine, but masterfully restrained the impulse.

"Leave me out of your damn perversities, Etholin" he muttered instead "I still don't understand how the fuck you're older than me."

"I was here first" Diagon replied, still not removing himself from where he'd firmly attached himself to Spike's middle.

"Diagon…"

"Yes?"

"Get the hell off me you bastard…and for fuck's sake, put on some god damned clothes."

--

Author's Note(s): So, how was it? Good? Bad? Review? Please? Anyhow, I hope you liked Spike Idra and Diagon Etholin, becuase we'll be seeing a lot of them and Leana Eve (refer to the story summary on my profile) in the future chapters - most likely chapters 20 and on. I really wanted to include them around then so that I can develop the story a bit more, but the chapters from here on in will have little scenes of the three interspersed within them so that you don't forget them. As always, even if you don't review, thanks for reading. The next chapter will either be a holiday special, or a full chapter in January/February.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Notes: Well, it's me again! I'm back from the last year with a crazy-long chapter to usher in the new year. A few notes about this chapter include a small warning: there is a lot of new information in this chapter, most of them about stuff to do with magic and stuff, and these things are all my own original ideas, so do not use them without giving me credit; it took me years to think some of these things up to the level they're at now, and it would really be fucked up if someone ripped me off. Similarly, if one of you see something in here that someone uses later on in their own story, tell me if they don't at least mention it isn't their original idea, but let me make the decision on whether or not to report them. Well, I don't want to keep you from this 20-or-more page chapter, so here ya go!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter? My idea? Yeah, and maybe I've got a battery in my ass too.

--

Saturday came all too quickly, and that meant that Stingchu's very first class was in session…although only 6 people and 2 non-people came. Harry, Ron and Hermione had, of course, known about the session the whole time, and Ginny had gotten wind of it as well through general association with the three. Neville Longbottom had found out by chance when Harry had mentioned it in passing to Hermione and Colin Creevey had followed Harry there and, as a result, was the only first-year student to come. Accordingly, there were only 6 seats, and 7 desks, one of them at the front, much like a teacher's desk at the front of the classroom. This one had a bowl filled with pieces of chalk in it. Ritten and Galaxy were also present, dozing on a windowsill, Ritten snuggling up to the chibi-dragon as a near-duplicate of his nap-mate. All in all, the room had the feel of a small ballroom, though it felt rather quiet and empty with so little people.

"Only 6, eh?" Stingchu remarked rather disappointedly. "What a shame – that means no one's interested in learning 'round these here parts." He shrugged, before turning to the blackboard of the otherwise vacant classroom and picking up a piece of chalk from the bowl.

He grinned at the six from behind his mask as he held the chalk up to them. "Looks like an ordinary piece of chalk, eh?" He asked, before tossing it to Neville "what do you think?" Neville examined it closely, turning it over and rubbing at the white residue it left on his fingers.

"W-well, I think it is…" He said quietly, blushing as he met Stingchu's disembodied, nigh-faceless stare.

"Bingo!" Stingchu replied, holding his hand out – Neville tossed it back. "This is, indeed, just a regular, dull-as-shit, plain ol' piece of 100, genuine chalk!" He said in an upbeat voice, almost like a salesman sponsoring his wares "but…" He turned to the board and hastily scrawled out a single word, underlining it twice "doesn't it seem like such a damn waste?" He asked "to have so much material spent on a lousy ol' writing utensil?"

"Reversing?" Hermione questioned "what's 'Reversing'?" He smiled at her pleasantly, placing the chalk in his palm. The air suddenly grew heavier, and the chalk began to dissolve, slowly breaking down into a small pile of powder. They stared at the small pile of chalk dust, amazed and dumbfounded.

"Reversing is the act of taking something, anything at all, and breaking it down into the individual ingredients it was originally made of, or into the liquids it was composed of in the case of things like mixed-flavor juices, or even gases in the case of such things as carbon dioxide."

"What's carbon dioxide?" Colin piped up. Stingchu sighed.

"While that **is** a very good question, Colin, it is for another lesson, and it might even take days to answer." The young boy seemed a bit frustrated… "You are welcome to stay behind after class if you want to learn more about it, though." That got him a smile.

"Er, Stingchu?" Ron asked, "what exactly is Reversing good for?" He cringed at the sharp look he was given "I mean, I can't see what a pile of powdery chalk is useful for…?" Stingchu was silent for a moment.

"Well, for one" he finally spoke up "if someone attacks you, throwing a fistful of powdered chalk in their face can stop them up short, and it won't harm them if you don't want to hurt them. You can also mix it into the sugar bowl for a good prank." Harry silently vowed those words would never make it to the Weasley twins' ears… "If you really get pissed, though, this chalk is made up of some stuff called calcium sulfate. If you separate that calcium sulfate stuff from the other stuff in the chalk, you've got yourself some powerful dust – you throw that in someone's face, and they'll be wheezing the next few days, and their eyes'll be awful pained. Their nose might even bleed."

The six Gryffindors were silent "and finally, if you mix this particular calcium sulfate with a bit of your spit and some magic" he held out his hand to Galaxy who spit into the pile, and then he closed his empty hand over the full. His hands momentarily glowed with a faint yellow color and when the glow had faded, he opened them and a clear, gelatinous liquid slowly dripped onto the floor. "Once again, however," he piped up as, like an acid, the liquid sizzled, eating through the stone at a remarkable rate "that is part of a process known as Infusion, and is a lesson for another day." The last of the acid was spent after it bore three inches into the floor. "Amazing, though, what you can do with chalk, inn'it?"

--

"Wait, how did you do that without a wand?" Hermione asked tightly, for once forgetting to raise her hand.

"I don't need one" he replied "I was raised to use my magic without the help of a wand" he finished, before Hermione's face got anymore confused. "However" he pulled out his own wand from its holster on his hip "I do know the incantation necessary for this technique." He pointed his wand at the chalk "_Reverto_!" He commanded, tapping the chalk harshly. Like before, the chalk dissolved into a small pile of powder. "Who would like to try first?"

Approximately 10 seconds later, all eyes were on Ron as he tapped his wand over and over on the chalk, harshly repeating the incantation. "Try a bit more brain-power, kid" Stingchu finally intoned. When Ron glared harshly, Stingchu demonstrated the wand movement again.

"_REVERTO_!!!" The chalk shuddered violently as Ron's wand all but smacked it, before exploding. When Harry finally cleared the chalk from his eyes, all he could see was white faces surrounding him, and a rather sheepish Ron.

"Yes, well…" Stingchu commented "that's one way to do it."

--

Halfway into the lesson, the rest had basically got it, more or less. Although Ginny, Colin and Neville still only managed to affect some of their chalk pieces, they were progressing nicely. So far, Harry was the only one who had managed it – even though Ron had that initial explosion down pat, he still had trouble with the normal way, and there were still large chunks in his piles. Hermione's pile had only dust and small pebbles.

Now, all this practice had filled the other bowl on the table with chalk dust. At first, it was unclear why Stingchu had kept all the dust…until… "Okay, now for lesson part two." He commented, picking up a piece of chalk and going to the blackboard again. He wrote quickly, before dropping the chalk into the dust bowl, quickly following with the remaining pieces of intact chalk. Within moments, the chalk had been turned to dust in the second bowl. On the board was a single word 'Advancing'.

--

He picked up a handful of dust, which sifted from his hand until only a small pile was left there. "Now, since I'm sure Hermione wants to know, Advancing is the process of taking a material in the most basic form, like chalk dust, and turning it into an end result." This time, he started with his wand.

"Procé!" He barked, his wand jabbing at the dust. Amazingly, the dust shifted at the sharp command, and within moments, there was a new piece of chalk in his hand, with some dust leftover on his hands. "Now, this is not limited just to one ingredient" he explained as they stared, dumbfounded, at the chalk he was waving around nonchalantly. "You can even use any basic, simple ingredients, like water and stone, and sort of 'mix' the two together to make something as basic as clay…but there's a catch."

They snapped to attention as he tossed the chalk into the empty bowl. "The more complex the item you want to make, the harder it is to make it. It places greater and greater stress on the mind and magical energy of the caster." He said simply "making a chair using the Advancing technique, for example, is much easier than creating a tree. A chair is simply wood slapped together with nails, or glue, or whatever, and is relatively small. Usually, you can just use a solid piece of wood for the job without all the nails-and-glue business. A tree is a living thing, though – you have to give it a trunk, and leaves, and roots, and you have to tunnel out a waterway leading to every part of the tree so that it can get all the nutrients it needs to those places. The leaves also need to be made, and those are numerous and delicate, and take a near Zen-like concentration if not an insane amount of energy, and then there's the matter of starting up its life cycle, which usually takes an even more insane amount of energy."

"So the Advancing technique is more practical when using for making objects, than living things?" Hermione's question was more of a sentence…

"For wizards and witches such as yourselves, animating anything is not easy, but that is another lesson for another day."

"Somehow" Harry intoned in a deadpan "I knew you were going to say that."

--

By the end of that class, everyone had made progress. They'd all rebuilt their chalk to varying extents, but they were exhausted by the time it was done. Even Harry was worn out, sweating slightly.

"Not bad" Stingchu said blandly "you six aren't so bad at letting your magics work" he continued "but it's still pretty inflexible."

"Inflexible?" Hermione asked.

"Magic Flexibility, Hermione, is a term among my country's institution to describe exactly how easily and skillfully a person can manipulate the magical energy from their cores." Hermione was wide-eyed, even as her quill scratched away. "If you want to learn more, however, you will have to wait and see if Colin has more questions about carbon dioxide." He sat on the edge of the large table "Other than that, I think I've given you enough material to work with until next week. That said, work on your Reversing and Advancing until you can do it easy – if you need more chalk, just come to me about it – and if anyone asks you to teach them, feel free. Well, it's been nice, but it's time to get most of your faces out of here, so class dismissed."

--

"Haven't talked to you since the first" Stingchu intoned, scaring the spit from one Aaron Montague. He watched, amused, as the young man regained his composure.

"Merlin! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Really? What kind?!" Aaron stared into the goggles of Stingchu's disguise for a very long time, before sighing helplessly.

"What do you want?"

"You didn't come to my class on Saturday" Stingchu said bluntly "any reason?" As if the first time was not enough, when Aaron opened his mouth to reply… "Any reasonable reason?" An irritated expression… "Alright, alright, go ahead…sheesh."

"Well, I'm in Slytherin" Aaron began lamely "and since I'm not on the best terms with my parents…well…and here, it's…it's hard to explain."

"Really?" Stingchu said in a monotone "I thought it was pretty simple. You've gone against the will of your entire family in order to escape a detrimental, controlled home environment, as well as the backwards traditions that went with the aristocracy you were born into. As a result, the entire aristocratic society, including the children of said society, has labeled you as a traitor, a defector and a heretic, and your classmates have therefore ostracized you. In order to not aggravate their loathing, you have isolated yourself from any of those that they are against." Aaron was gaping "pretty sound reasoning, actually…"

"I can't figure out whether you're that bloody, effing brilliant to be able to say things like that, or just mental enough to pass for it."

"Maybe just a **large** bit of both" he replied enigmatically "in any case; do you know what Reversing is?" He asked, holding up a piece of chalk.

--

Stingchu felt eyes on him constantly. It was nothing new – back in Omnivei, he was often the center of both positive and negative attention (especially all those times he'd gotten good and drunk), and after such constant exposure he no longer gave a shit. Well…kind of; he still had that infuriating twitch in the middle of his back… He had more important matters to deal with than any stalkers though – like what he was supposed to do about Harry's new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart.

The man was a complete liar, a public fraud, a disgrace to his species, and so utterly stupid that Stingchu was surprised he did not have some kind of mental condition. As October passed, Stingchu was increasingly more and more frustrated by the charlatan of a teacher and he was determined, by the time Halloween rolled around, to give him more than he bargained for when he'd signed up as a Hogwarts professor. Add to that the fact that he'd embarrassed and annoyed Harry several times since the start of term, there was no question of getting rid of the bastard!!! But first…

--

"A modern-day, pagan Halloween celebration?" Dumbledore asked dubiously "wouldn't it be a little late to begin preparing for such a thing?"

"Nah" Stingchu said loosely "I can do all the costumes for anyone who wants one, and I've already designed shapes for the decorations." He grinned wickedly "why not have something special for Halloween for once?"

--

Stingchu was an artist, Harry quickly discovered. He'd managed to find a way to imprint standard costume designs in a series of necklaces with differently-colored gems for each type, and altered them within seconds in the palm of his hand, privately designing each and every one. Inwardly, he thought he'd be bored, watching the emanchu alter the costumes for every single person one at a time, but he was too busy being amazed at the sheer skill of the emanchu, who held the gems only for moments, and performed the complex, tricky magic effortlessly, one after the other in quick succession.

As for his own, Harry eyed his black bauble curiously; Stingchu had given it to him as a surprise, and he had no idea what to expect…

--

The air was heavy with excitement as Halloween day arrived, rather peculiar for Hogwarts. Usually the only motivating factor would be the feast, but the entire event had been turned into a ball, complete with a dinner-and-dance. Stingchu had, somehow, even gotten The Weird Sisters booked for the night. The emanchu's efficiency was both as surprising and as frightening as his enthusiasm over the holiday, especially when he could be seen the day before, performing spells on certain parts of the castle both with and without his wand, or running and jumping through the halls at break-neck speed, performing extremely dangerous acrobatics as he flew over their heads…

--

Harry couldn't take the damn thing off. He'd put on the necklace and, unfortunately, his had been quite…interesting… He just took the time to thank god that he was in the bathroom, and that the door was locked as he began harshly muttering obscenities, pacing back and forth.

"Oi, Harry, are you alright in there?" Ron called, sounding curious. "Did you get yours mixed up with someone else's or something?"

"No, Ron, I just have to remind myself to effing **kill** Stingchu later."

"Hell, what did he do now?"

"Take a gander" Harry snapped as he opened the door and stepped out. Ron's were-wolf jaw dropped as he stared at Harry's costume. "The ruddy bastard is probably laughing himself crazy!!" Harry had been turned into an emanchu with black fur, white hair and green eyes. He was completely unrecognizable; not only was his scar hidden, but his eyes had slanted, his face elongated and his jaw sharpened, not to mention what the fur was doing to his face…

"Bloody hell, Harry" Ron breathed "that's brilliant!" Harry's tail, which had been cutting the air irritably, froze, and the wolfish black ears flattened against his head.  
"Wha-?" His jaw slightly open, he exposed a pair of fangs.

"Well, first off, I don't even recognize you, and that'll be dead useful when we get to scaring the shorts off the others. Second, that's the most amazing ruddy costume I've ever seen!" He blinked at the emanchu-Harry.

"Did he say why he wanted you to have that one?"

"Er…" Harry blinked at his best friend "nope…"

--

Loud screams could be heard coming from around the corner, and three third-years barreled past the trio as they fled whatever monster had scared them this time. Hermione, dressed as a rather intelligent-looking were-cat, barely managed to dodge out of the way.

"Weeeeeee!!!!" Stingchu's voice, loud and obnoxious, sounded out as he turned the corner. He skidded to a stop, however, once he'd spotted the three Gryffindors, the giant white wolf head he was wearing over his own flying back to reveal his uncovered, maniacally grinning face. Ron and Hermione seemed unable to recognize him… "Hey guys, how d'you all like your costumes?"

"It's good" Harry said "but I'm still going to gut you tomorrow during sparring." Stingchu laughed raucously, hands crossing over his bare chest. Even though he and Harry were wearing the same outfit, **his** Karate-gi jacket was open, covered with attached beaded strings and his pants covered with rips. He was also wearing a snow-white wolf pelt that was absurdly large for his small stature, the arms tied around his shoulders, the legs dangling to almost touch the floor. His own tail was threaded into the hollow pelt's tail, making a bizarre, and very disturbing, mix of red and white.

"As if you can even come close enough" Stingchu grinned, scars stretching in a way that made Ron and Hermione flinch slightly. "Anyway, enjoy yourselves tonight, and Harry?" The smaller, more ticked off emanchu blinked up at him "you might want to go see Ginny…" With that, he bounded away, chasing after a group of first-years unfortunate enough to wander in his path. It would never be known if he was laughing at Harry, or at the resulting screams.

--

Harry didn't quite know what Stingchu had meant by 'go see Ginny'. All in all, he was ready to slaughter Stingchu…that is, after he stopped staring. Ginny had also been given a black necklace, but she'd retained her flaming red hair and gained curiously auburn-colored fur. They just stared at one another, a bit dumbfounded.

"That's you, right Ginny?"

"Harry?"

--

Stingchu was having A LOT of fun. Earlier that day, he'd been creating several time-delayed illusions that, when night fell, sprung up as heavy shadows, cobwebs and eerie mists. He, himself, was in rare form, even for himself, and had dressed in his father's old robe for the occasion, delighting in scared the shit out of every living and non-living being in Hogwarts. Although…he ran past the second floor girl's lavatory once, then twice, then a third time, before his curiosity got the better of him and he entered, pushing the skull up off his head.

His ears picked it up first; it was the sound of a draft, and as his nose caught up he discovered the smell of very old bones lingered on that very breeze. He had to wonder why he hadn't picked up on it before, but quickly reasoned out that he'd never actually gone past the door when it was open, and as nuts as he was, he wasn't just gonna walk into the ladies' room for no reason…though it **had** happened before. The point was moot, though; he was out-of-his-mind drunk at the time…

Striding up to the faucets as if walking up to a rather interesting-looking pot (AN: god, I was tired when I wrote this; why the fuck did I write 'pot'?), Stingchu stared and stared, until he found he didn't want to waste his time… With a single punch, the entire section of the bathroom was blown off its foundation, off the face of the Marauder's Map, hell off the face of the continent, and was sent straight through the opposing stone wall and beyond, sinking down to the lake's inky depths a few hundred yards out. He took only a moment to stare into the seemingly-endless hole the damage had left behind, before leaping into it with a maddening smile stretching his face.

--

Galaxy watched the miniature version of Harry's disguise run around the Great Hall, pure black fur shining under the candle light as the amethyst eyes twinkled merrily. The dragon himself remained perched upon a high-floating jack-o-lantern, his dignity intact as he watched over Ritten. He also muttered a prayer under his breath that Stingchu wasn't saving up for a major fright what with his sudden disappearance; god knew the fucking lunatic had done enough…

--

Stingchu's landing was destroyed by the explosive sneeze that had punctuated his preparations a moment before. Instead, he ended up landing face-first in a large pile of rat bones…not that he really minded… Standing up, munching idly on a small bone, he dusted himself off before grabbing up a handful of the small bones and snacking on them, rather like popcorn. Following the long corridor, he came to another door, this one with numerous carvings of snakes in it.

"Knock, knock!!" He exclaimed enthusiastically, before sending the door flying off his hinges and halfway down the long corridor with a powerful kick. "Well if they were gonna open the door, they're dead **now**…" He commented sarcastically to himself as his foot returned to the ground. Within, there was a huge chamber, long, dark and damp, lined with hundreds of carvings of serpents' heads. "Yeesh, the way this place is done up, you'd think someone had a fetish or something." He commented dryly "whoever was this decorator's bed-mate musta got a nasty surprise when they went all 'furry'…er, 'scaly' rather…"

He huffed, idly exploring the tunnel, until reaching the great stone statue of Salazar Slytherin. "Overcompensating, much?" Was Stingchu's only comment before he leaped right up to sit on the giant statue's head. After a moment of silence, he heard the scrape of scales on stones. "Eh?" He looked down at the large, bald head he was sitting on, before knocking on the hollowed space. "Well, what do you know? An airhead!" He replied lightly at the sound of the hollow space, suddenly quieting as an extremely irritable hiss sounded from within the stone head of Slytherin. "Oh?" Stingchu intoned sarcastically, smirking down at the head "pissed are we?"

Without a moment's warning, Stingchu's fist descended, and the entire statue shook as the head was cracked open like an egg. Another hiss, the anger in this one aggravated to rage, shone from the darkness, yellow eyes shining through the gloom, staring straight into Stingchu's eyes…

…and nothing happened. Well, yeah, Stingchu blinked a few times (mostly out of curiosity), but that was about it.

If the Basilisk was capable of intelligent thought, this would roughly be what it was thinking: '_what the fucking shit-on-a-cracker?!_'

"Holy shit!" Stingchu finally exclaimed "what a fat-ass!!!" Many would wonder, later on, if the basilisk, as old as it was, had eventually become intelligent enough to form such intelligent thoughts as the one above, or even to understand human speech. Surely, the snake would be reasonably smart from the get-go, to be able to survive so long, regardless of its relative safety in the Chamber of Secrets. What was known only to Stingchu was the way the snake's eyes turned red, and how the simple comment had moved the 60 foot long behemoth of a snake to lunge…

--

"So why do you suppose he-?"

"We don't know!" Both Harry and Ginny replied, before exchanging unnerved expressions. "That's really freaky…" they blinked as they managed to say the exact same thing at the exact same time "okay, that's…" again.

"Maybe he's just got good intuition." Galaxy replied blankly as he landed on Harry's shoulder, a feather-light weight. "Perfect landing…" he muttered with a smug grin.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione's eyes, despite the fact that they were now slanted, had retained their hazel eye color.

"Look around" he explained "Harry and Ginny, Neville and that blond girl that gives me extra bacon every morning, that Cho girl and the pretty-boy from Hufflepuff. They've all got matching 'Yin-Yang' style, opposite-couples costumes. Just look at the four of you." He pointed at the respective pairs. He stared at their confused faces "uh, hello?" He gave them all a surprised grimace "werewolf-werecat, the only male-female emanchu pair in the room? He's a **matchmaker**. Damn good one too; he's one for the high courts, that's for sure." For a moment, Galaxy could not identify the cause behind the shaking in Harry's shoulders, until the voice, like acid, was squeezed from between clenched teeth.

"**Stingchu, you-**"

--

Just as Stingchu was about to breath a hot plume of fire into the snake's face, he felt it. As the condensed power began to flood up his windpipe, there was an enormous tingling in his nasal passages that swiftly turned into a vigorous tickling, rather like the sensation of dust being stuffed up the nose in handfuls. His eyes watered, if only momentarily, his entire upper body shuddering before…

"APCHI-HAAAAA!!!" The resultant flame was blown through both nose and mouth at approximately 100 miles per hour, right into the snake's waiting face. It recoiled with a screech as Stingchu fell back on his ass, wiping his nose, which was oozing trails of boiling snot that didn't seem to cause any pain at all to the emanchu. The snake, on the other hand, was gasping for breath, wheezing with pain every time air caressed its charred windpipe. "Snrrrk" was Stingchu's comment "must be Harry using those words I taught him last summer."

--

Indeed. If one thing could be said of the cursing tirade Harry managed to deliver in the Great Hall that night, it was that it sounded like the filthiest, dirtiest, trashiest sailor-accented locker-room communiqué ever delivered by a 12 year old in the presence of 11 year olds. Hell, even Dumbledore learned some new vocabulary. The entire room had gone silent, all eyes turned on one black-and-white emanchu, panting with exertion. Hey, it wasn't all that easy to scream obscenities that loudly for a straight two minutes.

For a moment, Harry was confused by the stares, and looked up at the absolutely **mortified** staff table. He then thought back on all the curses he'd just uttered, some of them hardly polite during bar-table brawls, and his white-furred cheeks turned a solid red.

"Oh, **_fuck_ me**…"

--

"Hmmm….." Stingchu stared at the dead, slightly burnt serpent as its eyes continued shriveling, before dowsing the fire with some magically-conjured water. "What do I do with this, now?" He continued to stare "well, I could always eat it" he commented blankly "but it'd probably take forever to cook, even if the meat was proper." He snorted harshly, and some leftover, fiery boogers fell to the damp stone. "I'd skin it if I had my sword with me." Another snort and this time pure lava was sent to the floor.

He sat this way for quite a while, ears twitching this way and that as he thought about what to do… Suddenly, his face lit up, eyes glowing maniacally as a wicked, cruel, mischievous grin spread across his face. Fangs gleaming in the dimness of the Chamber of Secrets, he emitted a hiss of his own. "Yesssss, perfect……"

--

As McGonagall continued to reprimand Harry, she took no notice of the rather large shadow approaching the Great Hall. So too the others, who were too distracted to pay attention when the Boy-Who-Lived was being reprimanded for language of all things…

"I completely agree, Professor, he was completely out of line!" The giant snake commented, nodding approvingly. "If he's gonna insult someone using that kind of language, he should at least make sure the person's there to hear it. It's not nice to talk behind someone's back, you know." For a moment, everyone in the hall had gone still, staring, wide-eyed, at the giant serpent that had somehow found its way into the Great Hall of Hogwarts without catching the notice of the Professors. "What?"

As if a gun had been fired, the room erupted into chaos, screaming students fleeing the giant serpent as the professors drew their wands…well except for Lockhart, who fled under a table. The hall lit up with lights as stunning, banishing, disabling and cutting curses were sent flying for the snake. Harry just barely managed to drag Ginny out of the way and underneath one of the tables.

The snake, however, was not content to be a stationary target, and shot forward like quicksilver, weaving through the professors' spells, and darting vertically up the wall, looking at them in an upside-down position. Its one open eye, a startling blue pupil on black, glared at them madly as its mouth opened in a grin, long, curved fangs shining in the candlelight, the red, forked tongue wagging at them teasingly.

"It's Stingchu" Harry gasped, his hands still tight around Ginny's shoulders.

"What?!" She hissed at him, confused written across her face.

"Bloody hell, I'd know that face anywhere – I'm telling you, it's him!"

"You're right; that's **his** right eye" Galaxy commented, earning a piercing look from Hermione. Ritten just giggled, and then turned into a small, black snake, imitating his 'papa's' grin quite skillfully. "Don't do that!" The dragon hissed, flinching.

--(Several minutes earlier)

The snake was badly charred, yes, and the eyes were completely gone, yes, but that didn't mean it was beyond repair. That just meant he'd have to steer without depth perception, and it wasn't like that was new. All in all, the melding was pretty easy after he'd fixed the charred flesh; turned out the basilisk was not completely unintelligent and it only took a few moments to get a handle on the feel, though re-learning to slither took some awkward movements. In no time at all, Stingchu had successfully 'acquired' control of the dead snake, and rose up off the floor, feeling liquid power through his new form as he gazed out with his right eye, the only usable one in his current situation. It wasn't the best body he'd ever used, but it wasn't bad either.

It was easy to slither out the chamber and into the bathroom, where he quickly assessed the situation. After making sure that the halls were empty, he made a bee-line for the great hall, keeping to the shadows just in case…

--

Seeing another volley of spells headed for his face, Stingchu dropped all tension from the muscles keeping himself attached to the wall and fell, boneless, to the floor with a dull thud. He was up in a flash, however, making his way straight for the group. He playfully nipped their robes, tossing them about as he zoomed past them, his hissing laughter spreading through the room as the few spells that hit him bounced harmlessly off the snake's scales. Seems the snake was useful after all! He might even keep it!

The face of the battle changed, however, with Ritten's arrival on the scene…

"Papa! Papa!" Stingchu jerked around, his giant snake-head like a whip as he turned to the little, black form slithering toward him. His jaw dropped slightly as a disturbing snake-smile spread across his face. That was before he saw Snape turn towards the small black figure and…

"_**NO!!!**_" Like a slingshot, the viper lunged forward in a strike, and Stingchu emerged from its head like a thread unraveling from cloth, propelled forward and out of the snake at an amazing rate. He landed in a crouch over the small snake, the white wolf head covering his even as the basilisk's once more dead body fell lifelessly to the floor. The green light of the Killing Curse hit him, and Harry cried out angrily, the table blown backward as he tried to shake Ron off. That was before they realized that Stingchu was still alive.

He looked down at the little snake, grinning as he pulled the head off and scooped Ritten up in his hand. "Your first words!" Stingchu chirped happily, forked tongue licking the top of his son's scaly head. "Oh, I'm so proud!" Ritten grinned the same way Stingchu had before, and his papa giggled, positively tickled by the display. "What a clever little boy I have!" Stingchu cooed "now, I need you to do your daddy a little favor." He grinned sweetly, gentleness softening his features "go over to your brother and let daddy work, okay?"

"Okay, papa!" Ritten responded as an emanchu, before running off in a bee-line for Harry as Stingchu pulled the wolf head over his own once more.

"**You**" Stingchu's eyes were cold, his fangs hungry as he turned to Snape, all semblance of gentleness and sweet care gone from his features, which had tightened into etched stone. "**You tried to murder my son**" he growled darkly, savage promises in his red eye, a glow of madness in his blue. "**You BASTARD!!**" He roared, before leaping for the still-shocked Snape, claws ready and willing to taste blood.

--

"WEEEEE!!!" Diagon's sudden, explosive outburst was not even half as disturbing as the giggling that followed. The fact that it had suddenly punctuated his sleep was no less unsettling. One moment, he'd been sleeping peacefully, the next giggling like a hyperactive teenage girl. "He's reaaally angry!!" He yelled in a sing-song voice.

Sky-blue eyes blinked at the statement, confused, before realization lit them. "He's going to eat someone!" He cooed again "he's going to tear them up and eat-them!" The musical nuance to his voice was more than creepy, and her fur, a golden tan color, was starting to rise… "Tear them up, and spill their guts, drink their blood from a cup and cover them in claw-cuts!" Now he was rhyming too; never a good sign. Running an exasperated hand through lavender locks, she grabbed another of his personal wine bottles, opened it with a single claw, popped a silly straw in, and shoved it at him.

He accepted it gladly. "Tear them up, and spill their guts, drink their blood from a cup and cover them in claw-cuts!" He repeated himself after a lengthy slurp, smiling disturbingly. "And then he's gonna eat them!!"

--

It had been Snape's great fortune to discover that Stingchu wanted to quite slowly maim him, not kill instantly. It was the reason the bloodthirsty monster could be stopped in the first place; after the first, devastating punch, the other teachers had leaped into action, warding him off with curses just long enough to calm him and restore his senses…now all that remained was…

--

"**No**" Stingchu hissed dangerously, features twisted into a grimace of rage made all the worse by the scars stretching his face. "**He doesn't get off that clean**" he growled, his gaze making the normally stoic potions master twitch.

"Well, what would you propose we do?" Dumbledore asked blandly, giving the emanchu a somewhat placid smile.

"**An arm or a leg for compensation might get you started.**" The emanchu deadpanned, giving them a nice look at his fangs.

"Y-You're…not serious?" Minerva McGonagall whispered, her posture stiff as stone. The others in the room, Harry included, were white in the face, though the young Vizor was first to speak up again.

"Actually, I'd be willing to guarantee the fact that he's completely serious." He said shakily "he actually wants Professor Snape's arm or leg for…'compensation'…"

"**Yes**" Stingchu affirmed, his snarl curling his lip away from a fang again. "**You attacked my son, without the knowledge of my presence there; you were willing to go as far as to kill my little **_**Zishiko**_** as soon as my protection was absent and you had a good enough story prepared…**"

"You were-"

"_**Hold your tongue before I take **__**that**__** as compensation!**_" Stingchu roared, his face mad beyond rage as flames licked from between his fangs "**and don't you dare lie and say you knew I was there; you damn well knew I wasn't, and it was your golden opportunity to do as your employer asked…**"

"Employer?" All whiteness was gone from McGonagall's face as she turned to the sallow potions professor, a momentary pause letting the rage build in her eyes. "Employer?!"

"**Yes – I believe a Mr. Lucius Malfoy is rather infuriated with the defiance I managed to plant in his son. I believe he asked you to do whatever small thing you could think of, didn't he?**" The wolf head was back up again "**NOW PICK WHAT YOU WILL PART WITH!! LEGS OR ARMS ARE THE SAME TO ME!**"

"Severus?" Dumbledore's face was at an all-time grave as he glared down at the dark-robed professor, who had a peculiar expression of anxiety written in his eyes. "I…see…" he finally muttered "I'm very disappointed in you, Severus…"

"**Oh, don't hold your breath**" Stingchu quipped "**he's been dirty since forever and you know it, ya old bastard. Now choose before I do it for you.**"

"Isn't there any other way…?"

"**No; I must receive something of value – his arm, his leg – and from only the dominant side. An eye might be enough to start with, or his tongue. He can also offer up one of his less important organs; a kidney perhaps?**" Harry grimaced at the expression in his guardian's eyes; he recognized it from an old legend the emanchu had once told him of a cannibalistic god…

"This is madness!" Sprout breathed, her face pale.

"**No, it's compensation.**"

"Isn't there a way that does **not** involve physical mutilation?" Dumbledore questioned hesitantly.

"**Well…**" Stingchu shifted uncomfortably "**the only thing that would suffice is permission to run amok in his mind for one entrance.**" He looked uncomfortable at the thought "**during which I may change his subconscious behavior in any way I deem necessary or fun.**" There was silence "**but I'd much rather get something yummy to eat then dick around in someone's brain for a while.**"

"I knew it! That 'god' you were talking about was _you_!!"

"Eh? What do you mean?" He asked as the growl receded from his voice, banished as he turned to his other, unsuspecting son.

"The 'god' you told me about that went around devouring everybody!" Harry said angrily, pointing at the somewhat taller emanchu "that was you! I can't believe you ate that **entire civilization**!"

"Hey, they had it coming!" He exclaimed defensively "if you attack something, don't be surprised when it turns 'round and eats ya." He snorted "besides, most of them were stuck up assholes anyway, so…"

"Y-You're impossible!"

"No, he's just friggin' insane" Galaxy commented dully from the young Vizor's shoulder, sighing heavily "both socially and clinically."

"Papa cuckoo!!" Ritten commented, sitting on Stingchu's shoulder in a new phoenix form. Fawkes, staring at his fellow 'bird', chirped sweetly.

"Yes, _Zishiko_" Stingchu nodded "your papa is very, very cuckoo, and right now, he's still wondering which choice the bastard in black is gonna pick!" He gave Snape a pointed glare "you've got 'till I count to three, and then I'm gonna take your kidney out right here in front of everybody." Harry backed away from the ticking bomb slowly…

"This is outrageous!"

"One…"

"Albus, you cannot allow this!"

"This kind of barbaric behavior-!"

"How can you just-?!"

"Two…"

"What should be done?"

"Can't we offer you any other kind of compensation?!"

"Not in front of the students, for god's sake!"

"Thre-"

"My mind" Snape finally said. They all turned collectively to regard the potions professor, dumbfounded by the statement. "You may have my mind."

"Agreed" the grin Stingchu gave him was just a tad bit feral…

--

"So how does the mind-thing work, anyway?" Harry finally asked reluctantly as Stingchu fitted the last of his disguise into place.

"Eh? Mind-thingy? Oh, you mean the fuck-around I'm gonna be doin'?" Stingchu's profanity only made Harry sigh… "Well that all depends on what type of mental techniques you use."

"Mental techniques?"

"To keep it short, you got Energy-Based, Psychic and Astro-Based techniques for any type of mental usage." He explained "and mental usage is just a fancy way of sayin' 'doing things with your mind', like levitating stuff with telekinesis."

"So, telekinesis would be which of them?"

"Well that all depends kiddo; each of the three types has telekinesis; it's a very general term in mind usage."

"Yeah, but-"

"Is yer butt on fire, or somethin'?" The emanchu quipped irritably as he rifled through his backpack.

"My…butt?"

"I didn't think so – so since yer butt ain't on fire, yer not in a terrible hurry, or having an emergency (like, say, a flaming ass) distract you, so shut that cave you call a mouth and listen to the teacher." Harry flinched, before taking a seat on the nearby bed in Stingchu's room. "Telekinesis is the art of levitating any object, living or nonliving, organic, or nonorganic, through the art of mental usage. This means that it is found in all the branches of mental usage, however each has its own limits. Astro-Based, rather Astrological-Based, has the greatest limit to it; this type of telekinesis can only be employed on other living things, and those have to be sentient, self-aware and reasonably intelligent."

"That's…pretty limited…"

"Hey, Astros are a hell of a lot better at healing and defense than either of the others; telekinesis is more offensive than anything and so isn't too useful to Astros anyway since their job is to help out, not smack the shit out of an enemy." He had, so far, removed three rather suspicious-looking vials… "Now, Psychics are much better at telekinesis, although they're only limited to objects and non-sentient things. The most I've ever seen a psychic do with a living creature is lift a bunny about 2ft and then he had to stay in the Fatigue Ward for a week." He shook his head sympathetically.

He smiled wickedly, though. "Then again, give them an object and they're a deadly weapon. A spoon, a thread, a pillow – everything becomes a weapon to a psychic with half-way decent telekinetic ability. I had a psychic for an acquaintance once. Eventually he became the pioneer in psychic telekinesis – he took out an entire battalion of demons with a box of tissues, two paper clips and small grains of shattered glass…all in ten minutes. He was the best fuckin' psychic I ever met – killed himself after the woman he loved called him a monster – couldn't live with the shame. Fuckin' bitch – I made her pay for that one by myself and for free too. Least I owed him for being a decent Humel. Those types are usually stuck up assholes – the whole half-angel crap goin' to their heads an' all – and his death was just fucking messed up…"

"Um, Stingchu?" He blinked at the disturbed expressions on Harry's and Galaxy's faces.

"Hm? What? Did I ramble? Yep; I probably did judging by the looks on your faces. Sorry, where was I?"

"The Energy-Based?"

"Oh, right, well the Energy-Based are the best at telekinesis when it comes to variety; you want to move somethin' or someone without bustin' a sweat or breakin' yer back? Just get an Energy-Based Telekinetic to help out." He said enthusiastically, grinning comically as if advertising a product. "Though, there is a down-side. Energy-Based Telekinetics are bound by sight; they gotta see it if they wanna move it, but it uses up their energy somethin' awful. Most Energy-Based Telekinetics (or Emusers as they've so lovingly been dubbed) have to have energy reserves of extremely high levels, and are usually suffering of some kind of fatigue because of their high usage level, though they do have an advantage."

"An advantage?"

"Yep; you see, unlike most magic users, Emusers develop their energy reserves differently. They have several different reserves for each different magic, kind of like having a bag for each type of luggage, like one bag for clothes, one for jewelry, etc. Anyway, whenever they use a certain type of magic, like for example elemental magic, they draw from the energy reserve that works with elemental magic, but there's a condition; once they use a spell or technique, their reserves for that particular magic will be increased by one fourth of that spell's energy cost, which means-"

"That every time they use magic, the reserves get deeper?"

"Correct, Harry" Stingchu said, pleased "you've been paying attention. Now, can you tell me what else that means?"

"That they have to fill up that extra amount even more and…" he blinked "over time, that amount gets bigger, the refill gets slower, their reserves are never filled completely and they're always tired because of one depletion or another!"

"Wonderful – I think you've earned yourself a treat for tomorrow's spell session."

"Really?! Brilliant…"

"So which one is it?"

"Eh?" Stingchu looked to Galaxy.

"Which treatment will Snape be getting?"

"Well" Stingchu grinned cruelly "I have my own methods of intrusion. I am not bound to such rigid frames of magic, and the well of technique I draw from is much deeper…and the bottom is very, very dark…" A chill went up the metal column that acted as Galaxy's spine, and he tucked further into Harry's neck, tail curling around his owner's shoulder.

--

The threat had been made loosely, which revealed another aspect to his character. Though Stingchu had always been viewed as insane, violent and slightly dangerous to everyone that had met him so far, he'd never truly appeared as a murderer or monster to any of them. Their view was different now, after the snake, after his requests for 'compensation', and after he'd unveiled this new, berserk side of himself. This new threat only confirmed their new findings; he was a monster. With an airy tone and a casual step, he'd spoken his carefully-chosen words:

"If anyone comes into this room or does anythin' funny while I'm gonna, I'm gonna peel your skin off inch-by-inch over the course of 3 years, cut off a toe or finger every month, then slice up your genitals once all your skin is gone and strangle you to death with your own intestines, and then I'll take those very intestines and make them into a new pair of gloves. Oh, and by the way, I actually**can** keep you alive that long under those conditions and I'm great at multi-tasking, so I can take care of more than one person at a time. Plus, I'd like a few new sets of gloves and human intestines make such wonderful material…so, you know…feel free…♥"

--

Stuck in a room with the once more mysterious stranger, Snape backed away slightly, hoping he wouldn't have to fight Stingchu again. After all, he was an Occlumens; there was no way the deal would go through, something Stingchu knew from the start. What puzzled him now was what Stingchu's true intentions were…

"So, is your appearance really that which we saw earlier?"

"Do you mean the snake, the wolf, or the thing inside the wolf?" He wasn't surprised by the lack of cooperation, but then again, it gave him more time…

"The third" he replied, carefully circling himself towards Stingchu's left…only to find that Stingchu was mimicking him completely.

"That, my dear, was a masterful work of art made to disgust and horrify; after all, it was rather obvious that I wasn't a large wolf under that pelt, and I needed a base costume to match." He grinned from beneath his mask "but I suppose I should thank you, if it looks so realistic as to fool you. Did you like that trick with my voice? **The one I don't need any special costume for?**" He snickered at the shiver he sensed going up Snape's spine, tasting the air around the Vizor – it was heavy with fear and apprehension…both the emotions had spiked in facing the unknown.

"You know I am a Legillimens **and** an Occlumens?"

"That should be obvious, and I think you already knew the answer to that question."

"Then why agree to this?"

"Well, it has to do with Occlumency itself." Stingchu replied with a doting grin "you see, you're laboring under the assumption that your mind is secure through Occlumency, and as a result you're getting into a defensive battle position, anticipating a physical attack instead because you still think I want to kill you."

"You don't?"

"Oh, of course not; before, I would have taken your life for compensation since I was enraged over your blatant attack on my son. However now that my mind has cooled, I have been able to see a much more useful alternative to this situation that will help me protect my new _Zishike_. After all, your fingers are deeply entrenched in those wishing destruction down upon one of my sons, and who knows how long it will take the rest of them to go after my other son?"

"Your…sons?"

"Why, yes. Though only one of them knows it, Harry and Ritten are now my sons, whether they want me to see them that way or not."

"Is that why you're so intent on protecting him?"

"Of course – his safety is why I'm going to change your identity."

--

Snape had hardened his Occlumency shields into diamond, averting his eyes from Stingchu's goggles in an attempt to protect his mind…only…

'_Did you honestly think that would work?_' Snape's eyes snapped back to Stingchu's as he heard the voice in his head. '_If you did you're a damn fool. I wouldn't have agreed to this arrangement if I could not do as I wanted._'

"H-How?"

'_The same way I can have an automatic mental defense system. I don't operate on such an archaic level as you…_'

--

"Such simplicity…" Stingchu muttered in the dark corridor "everything's compartmentalized. This is gonna be frickin' boring. That's the problem with sane people. They make everything too **easy**, especially if they're neat, or intelligent, or smart." He strode away from the corridors, into a well-lit antechamber, looking to the door on the left labeled 'Archetypes' in neat print. "This is gonna be too easy" he groused angrily, walking through the supposedly walked door unhindered, like a ghost walking straight through a wall.

--

Stingchu closed the door to 'Arrogance', humming a light tune as he re-locked the door with a flourish, then wiping his extremely bloody hands on his bare chest, leaving long, wet trails of red on his yellow fur. The other Archetypes peeked out of their mysteriously opened doors, and Stingchu looked up. "Alright then, now that the main prick's out of the way permanently, who wants to steer now?"

The one nearest, a rather bitter-looking character dressed in Snape's customary black, raised his hand. "Who wants to co-steer?"

"I'll do it, mommy" one particularly smug-looking one from near the back quipped, his deep-green robes rustling. "About time someone else led this catamaran."

"Pessimism and Sarcasm? Not the most original, but it's always been a good combo…well then I got only one stipulation before I leave you to your own devices…"

"Yes, oh fearless leader?" Another quip from Sarcasm…

"You gotta cut off all association with Lord Moldy-butt (AN: I read this somewhere; props to the first person who thought of it!). He's too dangerous for anyone mortal on the planet, and he's after Harry to boot. Also, I don't care what the Dumb-bore says about 'necessary precautions'. If he confronts you about the reason you stopped your spy work and tries to convince you to continue it, just tell him I mentioned a disturbance in the ministry and something about a note written in blood. He'll get the picture and lay off…and then come after me. Fuck him, anyway – I can handle anything he thinks of." He turned away "well, I'm outie. See ya on the outside!" With that, he was back in his own body, looking down at an unconscious Snape.

--

Harry was woken up the next morning by a war cry, a wet slap across the face, and the smell of fish. Groggily, he forced his eyes opened, before another wet slap and the even stronger smell of fish startled him fully awake. Scrambling, he managed to find his glasses, and pull them hastily onto his face, just in time to see a fully-disguised Stingchu, his arm reared back, a large mackerel in hand. Harry ducked, the fish just barely missing the top of his head, as Stingchu yelled out a ridiculous war cry. "WHAT THE HELL!?!" Harry screamed as the mackerel descended again.

"POTATOES!!!" Was Stingchu's only reply as the fish landed on Harry's now empty pillow with a loud 'slap'. Harry himself had raced halfway across the room, not even noticing the other boys in the dormitory groggily waking up. "YOU!!!" Stingchu pointed at the anxious-looking Vizor "YOU HAVE ANGERED THE POTATOES!!! IT IS DEATH BY FISH FOR YOU,**BLASPHEMER**!!!"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" Harry screamed as a reply "HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY OFF YOUR NUT?!" Harry had to lunge to the side to avoid the fish that had been thrown his way in a bizarre imitation of a bowling ball.

"INSOLENCE!!!" Stingchu replied "NOW YOU INSULT THE MAJESTIC AUTHORITY OF THE LEEKS!!! YOU WILL SUFFER THE STING OF TWO FISH, HERETIC!!!" Harry, almost at the end of his rope, fled the room, Stingchu mere paces behind him with a cod and a tuna in hand, screaming another ridiculous war cry.

--

Finally managing (through some kind of insane luck) to shake Stingchu off his tail (figuratively speaking of course since he no longer had the costume on), Harry showered the smell of fish away, and then headed for McGonagall's office for detention, which could've ended worse. All in all, he spent only two hours of that Saturday morning helping neaten and sort books in the library before heading to lunch.

Before he could even reach the Great Hall, however… "**YOU!!!**" Harry groaned as he spun, looking frantically for the fish-wielding emanchu, who was pointing a carp at him now, his disguise mysteriously damp. What had he been doing…? "NOW THE ROYAL CARP SHALL TEACH YOU HUMILITY!!!" Harry ran as fast as humanly possible as the maniac rushed him, the rather large fish raised high above his head in an unexpectedly threatening manner.

"Why are you doing this to me?!" Harry screamed as he managed to careen around a corner instead of into a group of students.

"Take it like a man!" Stingchu replied as he leaped over the same group, eliciting several shocked protests.

"But I'm 12!!!"

"When my best friend was 12, he was using elemental magics to fight and kill other dragons 5 times his senior, you wuss!!!"

"Wait, what?!" Harry yelled, screeching to a stop. The next thing he knew, the 7 foot long carp had gotten him full in the face and he was sent to the floor, landing on his back. "You (_ insert foule and colourful words here_)!!!!" Harry snapped after wrestling the great fish off his face.

"Eh, I've been called worse." Stingchu said cheerily, before grabbing the fish by its tail, swinging it high above his head "NOW RUN, KNAVE!!!!"

"YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!" Harry screamed as, scrambling, he fled into the courtyard, dozens of eyes following his departure.

--

"Wow…" Stingchu commented, the carp's front end oozing gelatinous liquid to the ground as the full brunt of Harry's last string of insults was registered. He then sniffled a little. "I don't think I've ever been this touched…" he commented, dabbing at his now uncovered eyes with a handkerchief that had somehow appeared in his hand. "That's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard…snrk-poot…" He rather comically cleared his nose after pulling his mask up, smiling at Harry in a pleased way.

"What the eff are you talking about?" Harry growled, his arms crossed over his chest. "Weren't you chasing me **because** of my foul language?"

"Nope; didn't you hear me? You angered the Potatoes of Wrath" he said in a deadpan as he pulled his mask off "and then you insulted the Majestic Authority of the Royal House of the Leeks."

"Yeah, yeah, and then the French fries of Upset, and the Silver, Halo-wearing, Impotent Turbans." He noticed the particular grin Stingchu was wearing… "Uh, Stingchu, is there, by chance, a reason that those last two turn into acronyms that spell out-?"

"Well, we're ready to begin, I think." The emanchu interrupted "I think this is a good place, don't you?"

"Huh?" Harry looked around, noticing the distortion that Stingchu's illusion had created "but this isn't our usual sparring spot…"

"Who said that we're gonna be sparring? Certainly not the Avocados of Surreal Spitting." He said jovially as he removed his trench coat.

"Um, Stingchu, doesn't **that** one spell out-?"

"You bet your nut-sack it does!"

--

Madam Pomfrey nearly had a stroke as Snape gave her a 'good morning' and a sarcastic grin. As it was, the absence of any sort of rigidity in his posture the previous night when he was brought in had set her off-balance.

"Any idea as to when I might leave?" He asked irritably – well at least **that** was the Snape she knew.

"We'll see Professor Snape – you suffered a mild concussion with that nasty little fall, but you might be well enough to leave today."

"I guess that's Medic for 'keep your bloody knickers on'."

"E-Excuse me?" Madam Pomfrey's jaw nearly hit the floor as she heard Snape's voice sound out 'knickers'.

"I believe I said: 'I guess that's Medic for-"

"Professor Severus Snape, there will be none of **that** in my hospital wing!!"

--

"Um, guys…?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"What is it Ron?" Hermione asked distractedly.

"Do you feel like something is very, very wrong today? Like something happened that goes against anything that's right in the world?"

"Well, Stingchu's still among the living, isn't he?" Galaxy quipped from between bites of bacon, his muzzle smearing with egg yolk.

"Well, you have a point, but…" now even Ritten had looked up at him "well, just a moment ago I was starving; you couldn't believe how hungry I was." Hermione snorted into her pumpkin juice "oi, that's not funny!"

"Just get the fuck on with it!" Galaxy snapped.

"Er…right, well just as I was about to grab some bacon, I suddenly wasn't hungry anymore…" Almost everyone who heard that statement turned to stare at one Ronald Bilius Weasley "it's almost like something really demented happened and…why is everyone staring at me?"

"I don't know, Ron" Galaxy said calmly, turning to the staring students "maybe THEY JUST WANT THEIR HEADS RIPPED OFF!!" Everyone who'd been staring immediately turned away from the group, minding their own business as Hermione finally stopped coughing on her juice.

"My word, Galaxy (cough), you're quite testy this morning."

"You try being woken up by a mackerel to the face and let's see **you** be pleasant." He growled menacingly.

"Was it Stingchu again, mate?"

"That fucking midget's gonna get his dick torn off before the day is out." The faces of most of the girls listening reddened as the faces of the boys paled.

"Er, no offense, mate but you aren't exactly big enough to pose much of a threat…" Ron managed, his face the color of paper.

"Exactly" Galaxy replied, giving Ron a nice view of his razor-sharp teeth "that means my target is on a closer level with me." A shiver went up the spine of every male in ear-shot.

--

"Today, I thought we'd do something a bit different" Stingchu said to the slightly larger group before him – Dean, Seamus, a rather short blond girl, Aaron and Athena (to Stingchu's delight) had joined them. "Follow me then, all of you."

Stingchu led them from the classroom, out into the courtyard and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "Now, before we continue, I'd like to say something to you all – a warning of sorts you might say." His posture went rigid then, his voice hardening. "If any of you start fucking around, I'm going to beat the shit out of you. This is not some cute little field trip, this is a potentially dangerous situation; do not touch anything in here unless I give you the okay, and stay away from all the animals, which includes but is not limited to anything that moves."

Most of them were cowering under the brunt of Stingchu's warning "additionally, stay in the group or I'll kill you. In this forest there are dangerous things. The centaurs will not hurt foals such as yourselves, well except for Aaron since he's fully-grown, but there are unicorns in here, and they are easily frightened and might kill you in an attempt to protect themselves. So again, keep close and don't fuck around, 'cause it could mean that I'm eating some human meat tonight…"

--

"I think you might have overdone it with that last part, mate" Harry whispered to the only slightly taller emanchu.

"Meh" he muttered back "better to hit 'em hard in the beginning so that you don't gotta bury someone's child later." Harry flinched at the comment.

"Good point…"

--

"Now, does anyone remember what I'd mentioned about Advancing and, as a result, creating complex objects like trees?"

"You mean how it's harder to create complex objects that are alive instead of non-living ones?" Hermione asked, her notes already opened in her lap from where she sat in the grass of the clearing.

"Yes, exactly" Stingchu said with a smile "now, can anyone besides Hermione tell me what this implies?"

"It means that trees are as defined and real as human beings?"

"Quite" Stingchu said "and your name was?"

"Luna Lovegood" she replied airily.

"What does that mean, though? That trees are people too?"

"Well, if you want to say it very simply, yes, trees are people too…but they're people that we can not speak to, just people we can understand." He grinned at their frustrated faces "if that doesn't explain it, maybe I should go into a bit more detail."

He stepped away from the group, before sitting down himself. "Now, I'm sure you all know where babies come from, so I'll skip that part and get right to the baby stage." He held out a hand, and an outline of the shape of a human baby, glowing a deep blue, floated above his hand. "This is how life independent of the womb begins; but even from the baby stage we have magical cores don't we?" A small yellow orb came to float in the center of the babe's chest "but we also have another kind of core in us – a much more important core from which our magical cores are replenished." The orb turned green "this is called the Spring of Life, or more commonly the Life Spring, and it exists in every single living thing that has ever been or ever will be, from wizards and witches, to trees, to the smallest of insects in the world. It exists not only in the birds and the trees, but in the earth itself, and the moon and the stars and all those places and things that have the seed of life, and life itself in them." He chuckled "I think I might have gotten a bit carried away there; 'scuse me for the poetry. Anyhow" he changed the image from the babe to a toddler "as you grow older, your body and your magical core begin to change based on your environment and experiences and, as a result, your Life Spring will change with you."

Here, the small outline grew steadily as Stingchu spoke, the two orbs, yellow and green, changed into different shapes, growing larger. "Now, if a person's life is harsh, and filled with danger, their magical cores will expand and grow to tremendous size along with their body" the outline and orb changed accordingly "and their Life Spring will flatten and narrow into a flat pane" it changed "this form is assumed in this case since it allows energy from the life spring to change into magic at the quickest speed possible."

The outline and orbs then shifted again "however, if the life in question is one of leisurely academics, then the body and magical core will be different" here, the body was very thin, and rather weak-looking, and the magical core a round disk, nothing like the swollen sphere from before. "However, the Life Spring will be enormous" here, the green orb became the swollen balloon "mirroring the untapped potential of the person in question."

"So, no two Life Springs are alike? Each person has a unique form of Life Spring and magical core, just as we each look unique from one another?"

"Correct, Hermione."

"But what does this have to do with trees?" Athena asked from the back, her clear voice attracting attention. "Erm…" She blushed a deep scarlet at the attention.

"Good question, Athena" Stingchu chuckled at the little 'eep' she emitted at the sound of her name. It appeared that she did not expect to be remembered… "As I said before, every living thing has a Life Spring and also their own type of magical core. This includes trees; however trees are much different from humans. Humans can go wherever they wish, and must find food to grow, but trees are so much more than that."

"What do you mean? Are trees smart?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure, Ron" Stingchu answered "what is the definition of smart?"

"Someone who has shown a quick intelligence or ready mental capability" Hermione replied automatically.

"Eh! Wrong!" Stingchu immediately countered, grinning at her shocked face "there is no definition for smart – the word itself is meaningless as it applies to the entire universe – in the end it only applies to those capable of expressing them in the conventional ideal of intellectual thought."

"Er…what?" Colin stared up at the black goggles, completely befuddled "did anyone else get that?"

"What I'm saying is, the word 'smart' can only describe someone who thinks on the same basic level of a human, like when you're writing an essay on Herbology, most would think that Hermione will get the best marks in class because she is 'smart', but it's only sentences like that which are appropriate for the word."

"So, except for humans, and creatures that think similarly to humans, like goblins, there's no definition of 'smart', right?"

"Yes, Harry, very good." He cleared his throat "now, what I meant by 'trees are so much more than that' is the very nature of their lives" The human shape was gone, replaced by a seed with the two orbs inside. "At the beginning, the seed prepared to grow beneath the ground will use the water in the ground and the small bits of food within itself to grow up from beneath the earth." Here, the outline of the seed sprouted a stem and from that stem grew very thin, small branches covered with leaves. "Now, depending on the conditions around it, it might have trouble growing, or it will grow very easily."

"So if it had little sunlight or water, it might have a very hard time growing?"

"Correct, Aaron" Stingchu replied with a nod "now the interesting part about a tree's growth is that no matter what the conditions around it are, the tree's Life Spring will never change, only its magical core."

"Why?" Hermione asked "doesn't it need that energy from its Life Spring?"

"Oh, of course, but that energy is spent forming the tree – determining where branches and leaves will grow, how the rings of the tree shall grow, and how the roots shall spread. As it is, depending on how the tree's life is" he explained as the outline-tree grew "if it has trouble forming, its Life Spring will be depleted, but if it's injured or is not getting enough sunlight or water, its magical core will be depleted." He showed examples of both trees "and then you have those one-in-a-million trees" the outline changed again, this time with both orbs full and regular "the trees that grow and form unhindered, up and up and up" the top of the outline had gone so far that it could no longer be seen. "You see, it is the fact that the tree's Life Spring, potentially, might never be completely depleted, and that they hold unlimited potential to grow due to their ability to make their own food."

"What do you mean by 'a tree's Life Spring might never be completely depleted'?" Hermione asked "do you mean that a tree might never really die, just continue to grow if it is unhindered?"

"Exactly" Stingchu answered with a nod.

"T-That's, but…t-t-that's preposterous!" She stuttered "how could that be possible? Don't they eventually just run out?! How do they replenish their energy?!"

"That topic is a lesson for another day."

"You know, for a smart witch, you're a bit narrow-minded" Luna remarked, sending Hermione sputtering.

--

"Excuse me, Stingchu?"

"Yes, Aaron?"

"Though this is all quite fascinating" he commented "and I get how this similarity between humans and trees make trees, in a way, their own kind of being, I don't understand the importance of this knowledge, other than from a purely moral or philosophical view."

"Well, of course you don't" Stingchu replied "you're looking at this too much like Hermione would." Again, Hermione was sent sputtering.

"So…" Colin spoke up again "will learning all this teach us to talk to trees?"

"No" Stingchu answered "you can not talk to trees, but you **can** communicate with them."

"How?" Was the obvious question.

"With your magic" Stingchu answered Ron "and without your wands."

--

"What do ribbons have to do with all this?" Ron asked irritably, frowning.

"They'll help you differentiate between your tree and someone else's, but before that, I want you to make an observation about the trees around us." For a moment, there was a lot of confused staring, before Ron spoke up again.

"Uh, there aren't a lot of them, are there?"

"Exactly" Stingchu said with a grin "and this is exactly why we're here." He waved a hand around "all these trees have been harshly treated by both hard weather and cruel magic; there've been dark things and happenings in this part of the forest that haven't been kind to them and the poor dears have not been able to recover." Indeed, the trees were few and far apart, with several yards between each. Much of the ground was covered by small scars that indicated where some trees had been as well. It was like something had killed off almost the entire forest in that section. There were maybe 12 trees in view (if that) and the ground surrounding them was like a barren field with an edge of the lake just a few miles away.

"W-What do you mean by 'd-dark things'?" Collin was **very** afraid to ask…

"I mean things like that Lord Moldy-butt person-thingy." For a moment, there was dead silence in the clearing… "What?"

--

In the end, no one had been brave enough to say a thing about 'Lord Moldy-butt person-thingy', so they had each been given a white ribbon. "Now, I want you all to hold onto one end of your ribbons, and to concentrate very hard on your magic." Their eyes immediately closed "now, I want you all to imagine what it feels like to cast a spell, and the feeling you have when it leaves your hand and goes into your wand." He waited a few moments "now, try to produce the same effect, only with the ribbons and without a single definite spell in mind."

Harry's ribbon flashed, snapping the air, before turning a deep blue and lying still on the ground. He looked around to see a triumphant Ginny holding the end of a crimson red ribbon, a satisfied Hermione with an almost icy green in her hand, a smiling Luna holding the end of a ribbon the same whitish blonde as her hair and a content Aaron with the darkest green color Harry had ever seen. A small glow in the corner of his eye drew his attention to Dean, whose ribbon turned a curious mix of blue and violet.

Eventually the others had succeeded with their own ribbons: Ron's ribbon turned a blazing, nearly-obnoxious orange that reminded Harry of the Chudley Canons's team colors, while Neville's was a deep, but not dark purple. Collin's ribbon had turned into a blue not unlike the sky, Seamus had a muddy brick red, and Athena had an unbelievably pale pink ribbon in her hand. "Alright, then, does everyone have a color in their ribbon?"

He looked around carefully at them, before doing the same to his own ribbon, which turned black. "Now, this will be my tree" he stated, tying the ribbon loosely around the trunk of the tree in the center of the clearing, making a bow "no matter where I go in the world, if I try focusing on the ribbon, I will sense the direction it is in. The same goes for you and your ribbons; this is how you will be able to find the clearing and how you will know which tree will be your friend."

He chuckled at their confused faces "now, my tree will be the central focus, the 'matriarch' of this section of the forest and, maybe someday, of the whole forest. I want you all to watch the tree very carefully." He finished as he surreptitiously removed a glove, placing his hand on the tree in such a way that they couldn't see it.

For a moment, it looked like nothing at all had happened. Sure, maybe a cloud had moved from overhead, but nothing really significant appeared to have changed…that was until…

"Look, the tree – it's-!!"

"It's growing!! It's leaves, they're so-!" Indeed, the tree had grown thick, emerald-colored leaves, its trunk thickening, its branches sprouting branches of their own, and its height increasing steadily until it was three times the 6 or so pathetic feet it used to be. The ribbon was now tight on the trunk, and Stingchu put his glove back on to loosen it as all but Harry stared, gob-smacked (well, Luna just looked mildly surprised) at the now-great tree.

"Now, mind you, you might not be able to grow your trees at all today, and it might take years to be that proficient at it, but at least it gives you the general idea, right?" They stared then as Stingchu proceeded to 'connect' the trees by tapping his designated tree with a finger and then walking over to and tapping each visible tree, one-by-one. Once he was done with that, he turned back to them "now, who wants to pick the first tree?"

--

The tree Aaron chose was really a sapling – it was barely half his height, and looked quite weak and honestly was probably the most pathetic thing there, but he reasoned that since he was going to be working at Hogwarts as an assistant for Hagrid in Care of Magical Creatures and keeping the grounds, he might as well commit to something that would take nigh-forever to build up. Once he tied his ribbon about the trunk, he left a large portion of slack for the small thing, since he had no idea how this would all work. "Alright, now give me a moment here…" Stingchu muttered quietly.

Stingchu seemed to focus for a bit, before a small orb floated from his head, turning into a miniature of himself that fell into his palm. The little mini-Stingchu shook his head, momentarily dazed, before gazing up at its creator.

"Hey, boss" the small creature spoke in a surprisingly deep voice "whaddya need?"

"Just for you to be a walkie-talkie for now."

"Okie-dokie, boss – I'll keep in touch." It said before jumping into a branch on the sapling and having a seat.

"You stay here, Aaron, and don't worry about being attacked by anything; you'll be safe as long as you stay next to your tree." Stingchu said before moving on with the rest of the group. Aaron gave the emanchu a 'yeah, right' look as he lead the rest off, staring down at the sapling apprehensively.

'_How is this thing gonna protect __**me**__? It needs more protection than I do!_'

--

"Testing, testing, one, two, three; can everyone hear me?"

"Yes, sir" all eleven voices replied.

"Good, then let's begin. First, I want you to sit in front of your tree. For those of you with larger trees, it might be best to lean back against the trunk. Aaron, I want you to sit right in front of your and touch the bottom of the trunk for this. Now, listen closely…"

--

Breathing in and out, Harry repeated Stingchu's directions in his head once more, trying to 'reach out' to the tree. Now, he knew it wasn't as easy as saying 'hi' with a bit of magical energy, so he waited, trying to 'feel' the tree. After a few moments, he began to feel…something… It was like a gentle warmth was emanating from the tree into his back. He could hear a subtle wind in his ears and felt a strange peace he hadn't quite noticed before… He nearly lost his concentration as a deep humming began coming from the tree. As it was, he couldn't help but open his eyes and look up.

"Does everyone else hear that?" Harry heard Ginny through the mini-Stingchu on his tree's roots.

"Is it like a deep humming sound?" He asked.

"More like a quiet whisper." Aaron remarked.

"What are you all talking about?" Dean spoke up, sounding more than confused.

"Try again, Dean" Stingchu said patiently.

"This is amazing" Hermione whispered, sounding rather content. Harry agreed with her a great deal, watching the leaves of his tree glow a beautiful gold.

--

"Alright, everyone, we'll put it to a vote: do you all want to break for an early day, or keep going 'till sunset?" The reply was immediate and unanimous; no one wanted to go home yet.

--

Growing the trees wasn't so different from making the ribbons; just that a lot of their magic seemed to go more towards helping the trees recover, rather than helping them grow. As Stingchu led them back to the castle, he found himself reassuring the rather disappointed youngsters that it took time to grow a forest.

"Okay, then" he said as they all re-entered the courtyard "from today on, I will be going into the forest every day but Saturday, so you may accompany me from 3 in the afternoon to 5 from Monday to Friday, and from 11 in the morning to 5 on Sunday. I encourage you to bring classmates and friends to attend our Saturday sessions, and these afternoon sessions, so that they may test their mettle with some of this stuff. Now, another word: I don't want any of you wandering into the forest without me. If you do, don't bother coming back alive because if I ever find out you did something so reckless, they'll never find your bodies? Are we clear?"

"Y-Yes sir!" Most of them replied.

"I said, **are we clear**?!"

"Yes sir!!"

--

Later that evening, the hallways of Hogwarts turned into a comedy on a grand scale. Stingchu hurtled down the halls as a black blur, chased by a rapidly-moving Galaxy and a playful Ritten who tagged merrily along.

"YOU SON OF A FUCKING **BITCH**!!!" Galaxy roared at Stingchu, his claws creating small nicks in the stone floor "HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME WITH THAT SOFT, SWEET, PARENTAL CLONE!!! I SWEAR, I'M GONNA HAVE YOUR 'SET' FOR DINNER YOU SHIT-SMEAR OF A CUNT!!!"

"A shit-smear? But I thought I was a son of a bitch!!"

"**YOU ASSHOLE!!!**" Galaxy roared, doubling on the speed. Behind them, Ritten barked playfully, scampering after them with too-large paws and a lolling tongue.

--

Author's Notes: Well, there it is, with extra curses and obscenities and a large helping of sauce! As to the ideas that are completely mine, they include: Reversing, Advancing, Magic Flexibility, Costume Necklaces, the segment on mental techniques, the segment in Snape's greasy mind (although the Archetypes are not an entirely 'mine' concept; I've just made them unique), and the entire segment with the trees, including the part with the ribbons.

The ideas that are not of my own creation that I've added my own adaptations to include: Infusion, Animation and Overshadowing. As to Overshadowing, wouldn't it be so awesome, being that huge-ass basilisk?! That's why Stingchu did it...because it's awesome...

As to chapter 10, don't expect it to come anytime soon (sorry! don't kill me!!). It might be ready by early April or mid-March. I know, that's a long way off, but I don't like writing half-assed shit, and it takes a while to keep a good story moving along, ya know? As to the rating level, I think you're starting to see why it's like that, eh? Well, the language only gets fouler, so the rating stays high as fuckin' Mt. Everest...and yes, I said the f-word. Whatcha gonna do 'bout it?

To my readers: please review! I'm starving for advice/encouragement/human contact/support! I would really appreciate it, and I already reply to all of my reviews...


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note(s): Well, here's Chapter 10, all ready for ya! I've included some update on the progress toward the inclusion on the other three characters, and also just general plot movement. I also dropped some interesting hints, so squint close at the important parts!

-- 

"If this isn't a progress report, I'm going to have your blood bottled for Diagon" Spike hissed, keeping a firm grip on the file he had been given. "Now speak!" His sharp voice made the much shorter dragon flinch, even after such a long time working for the 7 foot behemoth.

"We've been able to trace his energy signature through the flux tunnel by following the residual cast-offs of the technique the Lady Eve used." He began "unfortunately, we have been delayed in our search by several parties…" The glare he received was one carrying more than just a threat "most notably the members of the house of Fer-schae, who have been paying our workers handsomely to ensure that he is not found…"

"Oh, is that so?" Spike muttered "so, our workers are being bribed by money, are they?" He grinned wickedly "have they forgotten how dangerous that is when I am involved in an investigation?"

"They were not aware of your status in our search; apparently, most of our field workers on this project are our younger employees, and they are not as familiar with the energy signature as most…" Spike's lips curled away from a double-row of razor-sharp teeth, a twisted grin.

"Well, then" he spoke without moving his jaw "make it known, but not before you bring them to me. I'm hungry" he explained "and my inhibition is not what it used to be." Behind him, Diagon giggled, his manner drunk as he hung from the ceiling by his tail.

--

"Oi, Harry" Stingchu tapped him on the shoulder, and quite effectively scared all the spit from Harry's mouth as McGonagall turned around to glare venomously at the disguised emanchu balancing on the back of Harry's chair. "I need to talk to ya."

"S-Stingchu! Can't this wait?" The young Vizor whispered, paling as the Transfiguration professor's glare grew steadily sharper, her lips in a line thin enough to cut paper.

"How can it wait if it has no thought processes of its own?"

"Stingchu…" Harry whispered through gritted teeth.

"Yes?" The inquiry was surprisingly pleasant.

"You're interrupting the class!" He hissed at him.

"Eh? Really?" Harry nearly died of exasperation then and there, but resolved not to throttle the emanchu…at least, not yet.

"Yes, really, now bugger off. I'm sure that whatever it is can be settled later."

"Well I really don't see **why** not now. I can teach you anythin' 'bout morphin' later, 'specially after this summer which is what I've been meanin' to discuss right now." A plethora of gasps flooded the room as McGonagall's face went thunderous, the atmosphere in the room heavy with tension. "Eh?" Stingchu looked around, sensing the sudden fear in the room "why'd it suddenly get tighter than a fly's ass in here?"

"Mr. Dragona" McGonagall's voice was deceptively calm and blatantly dangerous "are you implying that teaching my subject is pointless?"

"Eh?" He blinked down at her "pointless? Yeah, the stuff you're teachin' is pretty thin and narrow if ya ask me, but I guess everyone's gotta start from somewhere in the developmental process, even if it's at the crap-bottom U-bend of the toilet." McGonagall's face was reddening "actually, it's not so much a matter of being pointless as being antiquated…"

"How dare you!"

"In a way only I can dare, madame" he said smoothly, straightening from his perch on the back of the chair "though you are, indeed, full of righteous indignation, even you have to recognize that the fact that there has been no major change in knowledge about Transfiguration in a **century** means that it has become antiquated, especially since the only great wielders of it have ever used the simplest forms of it, which were created **thousands** of years ago. Its more elaborate forms have become obsolete; its complex spells obsolete on the battlefield."

It was obvious he was grinning at the look on the woman's face; Harry could sense the amusement fluctuating across his aura as if it was a beacon of light. "I've been in the same company as the magical community for less than 5 months, and I had seen all that you'd created by the end of the first month. To say the least, the only useful things I found among the entire compilation were the subjects of wands and the exploration into the affect of magical cores on the psyche of an ethereal psychogenterran as it pertains to time, upbringing and personality disorders." He chuckled "interesting how one is old, general and vague and the other is new, specific and detailed, isn't it?"

He sighed then, as if bored "and in any case, madame, the personal rules that are held by those outside my condition have not applied to me in a very long time. As for any of those other little rules, you know, about common courtesy, humane decency and not pissing into your boss's coffee, they don't apply ta me if I don't think breakin' 'em's wrong anyway. Different strokes for different people, an' all that. Well, let's go then, Harry."

"WHA-!" The next moment, Harry's books, his chair, and he himself had disappeared with Stingchu, leaving behind only an inkwell behind.

--

"-TTT?" Harry blinked, then blinked again as Stingchu flipped off his chair effortlessly "Uh…"

"Yup, we did just 'port out to the trees." Stingchu answered before the question even started to form "and yup, you're technically skippin' class, though you won't get punished for it 'cause it was my fault…unless of course they do it to try to make you hate me."

"Stingchu…what the bloody hell did you do all that for?" Harry snapped finally, clutching his quill so hard it snapped in his fist.

"Eh? Whatcha mean by 'all that'?"

"You interrupt the lesson, insult my teacher, berate a topic that's really hard for most people to do, and then pull me out of class. Have you gone completely – oh, forget it! I keep forgetting that you've already lost your mind!"

"Yup; haven't seen it in eons" Stingchu agreed with a nod "now come on, I need you to work on your tree more today – no wasting time doing that stupid stuff. I can teach you better things and in any case it's a style too restricted to the dry and simple functions."

"Wasting time?" Harry sputtered as Stingchu packed his things, carefully prying the broken quill from his hand "Transfiguration is the hardest subject I have!"

"Maybe, but I know a better version of changing stuff into other stuff" Stingchu replied, gloved hands glowing as he repaired the quill "though you won't have a snowball's chance in hell of learnin' it 'till the summer, and that's only if you're ready for the Rites, and it's 'cause of that matter that we've got a hell of a lot to get to doin'."

"The Rites?" He blinked up at the emanchu as he removed his mask and goggles. "What are you talking about?"

"Ugh" he groaned as he smoothed down the static from his hair "do you remember what I told you about Vizors not being wizards and witches back when we first met?"

"Um…"

--

"_W-wizards…snort…fucking hell…" it took him quite some time to calm down. "Kid, you're not a wizard" he said when he could finally speak "you're an ethereal psychogenterran. If there was a wizard on this planet, I'd be with them right now." Harry looked very confused at the information. It was like half the things Stingchu said weren't even English…_

"_A…what?" He also felt somewhat offended by the snorting chuckles coming from the alien. "Hey, come on, I'm being serious…" Stingchu paused, saw that Harry was upset, and quickly calmed down enough to explain himself._

"_Sorry if you're offended Harry, but I __**know**__ what real wizards are, and although you guys, Vizors, are pretty close; you're still just a subspecies of human if you don't go through the rituals."_

"_Vizors? What?"_

--

"You said something about Vizors going through rituals?" Harry asked, getting up as his anger melted away to curiosity.

"Yeah; I decided not long after that point to see how your schooling would progress in your following years. I've sneaked in on every year and every subject in your school, and it's not gonna work out. The Rites gotta happen before you turn to manhood and you need to train to a certain level for it to happen. By their guidance you'll be at least 40 before you get to that kinda high." He ran a hand over the trunk of his own tree with his uncovered, red hand "so I'm pullin' you outta that shit-for-brains academic shit hole of a curriculum." The tree began to glow a deep green "and I'm takin' your learnin' up to a new level."

--

"Why are you doing this?" Harry finally asked, watching as Stingchu mixed the vials. Stingchu's tree, which had by now become gigantic, had created a strange sort of 'extra-dimensional space' with a small bit of guidance from its 'partner'.

"What d'you mean?"

"Why are you so dead set on me getting stronger and stronger? Why do you look after me like this?"

"Hmph" he put his thumb in the top of the vial, plugging it, and shook vigorously "you're not even an official teenager yet and still you've got Voldemort to deal with" he answered "I feel like you could use a friendly, unmotivated hand. In that case, I can't keep eyes on you the whole time; I ain't got enough nerves to deal with watchin' someone anymore. I lost that kind of focus ages before you were born."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that you're practically a sitting duck at the power level you're at, and will be until you're as strong as the Dumb-bore." Harry had to snort with laughter at Dumbledore's 'nickname'… "The way they're teachin', if I don't interfere, you might lose your life to that fuckin' fungus-ass. Even if you don't, though, there's always the fact that he's gonna go after your friends. He'll try and get to them as fast as he can – maim 'em, torture 'em, kill 'em. He's a sick bastard, and that means he'll do whatever to hurt you, even if it won't be physical. He's gonna want you to bleed inside and out."

"…So…"

"Yeah; basically, if he thinks you ain't enough of a threat, he ain't gonna be shy 'bout nothin' he wants to do."

"He'll go after Ron and Hermione?"

"They'll probably be on the top of a very long list, Harry, and only right under your name. Besides, he'll try to get them alive first, you see – use them as bait, or a bargaining chip – surrender or I'll kill 'em." He frowned as he started measuring out a yellow powder "then, if he sees it don't work, he'll torture 'em, kill 'em, mutilate the corpse, and show it off in the most insulting, horrific way he can think of." He snarled as he spoke, still mixing "and believe me, that shit fucks with a normal person's head as easy as spittin'. Hell, thinkin' of that kinda stuff happenin' to anyone I care 'bout makes me wanna do some torture myself."

"H-How do you know all this?"

"…" Stingchu took a long drag from his cigarette, the look in his eye weary for the very first time since Harry had known him. "I used to be a lot like that kid, only power wasn't my motive. Mine was revenge, and I make sure that the people I was after suffered every second before they died. I also made sure the people loved by those people suffered for caring about them. I hated not just them, but everyone that ever gave a shit 'bout them." He chuckled "all for the only two people I'd ever known to love back in the beginning of my years."

He blinked then, looking confused "wow, I think I rambled again…oh well" he went back to mixing "anyways, don't ever let revenge bite ya too deep kid; unlike me, you'll have a conscience for all your life, and you might not want to have regrets for the things you do." He grinned wickedly "it's like I always say: 'unless you think it's a no-no, do anything that tickles ya'."

--

"I'm not drinking that" Harry replied to the frothy, green solution.

"Why not?" Stingchu's voice and expression were much too innocent…

"Well, judging by the look on your face, it's not going to be pleasant if I do."

"Yeah, but it's a good shortcut, ya know?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Well, to get you up from the level you are now to the bare minimum would require another 5 years of rigorous training, and I'm not so sure I wanna put you through that shit." He grinned "the contents of this vial, taken once a week, will shorten the process down to two months, even though you're still gonna have to work just as hard as you normally would for those five years. Plus, there **are** side-effects…" He grinned helplessly down at his young charge's frustrated expression…

"…Fine…" Harry groaned finally, taking the vial "you'd probably force feed me even if I refused." Stingchu grinned.

"You learn fast, Harry" he replied as the young boy downed the contents in a single gulp. "You'll need that kind of mind starting…now."

--

The next few days went by in a blur. Stingchu basically put Harry through the ringer – it was worse than all the conditioning they'd done in the summer, and the potion had nasty side-effects. He felt like his muscles were on fire every time he moved, and yet still Stingchu was relentless in the drills he had to do, not to mention their sparring matches. If it wasn't for the uncharacteristic grimness the emanchu had adopted since they'd started, Harry would have certainly started to loathe him.

In fact, the best part of Harry's day was pouring his energy into his tree; he got the chance to see Ron and Hermione every day. Both his friends made it known, in their own way, how they felt about the emanchu pulling him out of school…and they also had some news for him…

--

"What!"

"Harry, keep your voice down" Hermione whispered as Dean glanced over their way. Harry blushed, ducking his head down, and lowering his voice to a whisper.

"What do you mean '_Stingchu had a row with the entire staff_''? For that matter, why **didn't** Snape get involved?"

"Well, we think Snape stayed out of it partly 'cause of the whole deal with the 'compensation' stuff…" Ron began.

"As for the fight" Hermione remarked grimly "it nearly came to wands."

"What was it about, anyway?" Harry whispered harshly, giving the nearby emanchu nearby a concerned glare.

"What else, mate?" Ron asked, receiving an exasperated snort from Hermione.

"Basically, Harry, no one's too happy about Stingchu pulling you from the school like this, least of all the Headmaster. Dumbledore thinks you should be in Hogwarts and Stingchu thinks he should be teaching you…though if I was Dumbledore, I'd let Stingchu take care of you. He seems to know loads more about stuff I've never even read about."

"I've noticed that about him" Harry remarked with a peculiar expression. "Now tell me more about the fight; how'd it start?"

"Well…" Hermione glanced at Stingchu. "Have you ever noticed how odd Stingchu is sometimes?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, there are times when he seems to be very gentle and caring, mostly around little Ritten, but other times…"

"Other times, he acts like what my mum calls 'fighting mad'." Ron finished.

"He's also just plain off his nut sometimes, and from what Ron's told me, he can be awfully moody." Harry blinked at all the information bombarding him.

"What does this have to do with the fight?"

"Stingchu called Dumbledore out in the middle of breakfast the day after he pulled you from Transfiguration." Ron said bluntly "it was like he went ballistic again or something; talking about how he hadn't the right to put you through some kind of rotten trouble, and how Dumbledore was keepin' a whole mess of secrets that he wasn't gonna keep from you."

"Did he say what kind of secrets?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No, just told him he was a dirty old codger for doin' things like that."

"Although he wasn't nearly so eloquent in saying it, but Harry, don't you see?" Hermione asked "don't you see what we're talking about?"

"What?"

"Harry, Hermione thinks our friend Stingchu might just be mental." Harry blinked at the two of them, before chuckling lightly.

"It took you this bloody **long** to figure that out?" Harry asked "I've known that since the day I met him!"

"He does have a point." Stingchu piped up from next to Hermione, effectively giving two of the three heart attacks. "It took you guys a bit too long to figure things out. Oh, and Ron, I'm definitely insane – at least that's what all the psychologists told me…"

"S-Stingchu?" How long have you been there?" Hermione asked nervously, her voice trembling.

"Not very long" he replied "but I heard every word anyway – I've got **really** good ears." Harry held back another chuckle at the humor of Stingchu 'having good ears'. In truth, it was more like having radio satellites attached to his head…which reminded him.

"Hey, Stingchu" The disguised emanchu turned to his charge in curiosity, as if the two on either side of him were not frozen like statues.

"Eh? What is it?"

"Do you remember what we talked about?"

"Um…what?"

"You know…the…"

"The what?" He cocked his head in confusion "are you talkin' 'bout the school thing, the training thing, the rites thing, the face thing or the other face thing?"

"The face th-wait…" Harry stared at the emotionless disguise in confusion. "What do you mean 'the other face thing'?"

"Well do you remember the time I told you about how food can come from literally **any** place, especially when pickin's get slim?" Stingchu began, continuing upon noticing Harry's increasingly dumbfounded stare "well, I told you that the giant bug alien thingy grabbed onto my face and wouldn't let go, and was chewing on my face with that toothy sucker-mouth, right? So then I had to throw up in its-"

"OKAY, I REMEMBER NOW!" Harry yelled, cutting off the narrative anxiously, hoping to god that neither Ron nor Hermione knew what came next in the story. Fortunately, they had just barely come out of shock, and had missed the small conversation completely. "In any case" Harry finally continued with a sigh of relief "I meant the 'face thing'…I guess…"

"You mean the face thing where I strip partially, or completely?" Harry glared at the emanchu as the full impact of the question sunk in. "Yeesh, change yer face before it freezes, Harry" Stingchu commented, waving a hand in the air "are you tryin' to kill flowers or somethin'?" The glare only intensified. "Damn, Harry, I didn' know you were **that **upset. I guess all this trainin's givin' you a pissed off head. You look like an elephant with infected hemorrhoids."

"OI! DON'T CHANGE THE TOPIC, **&#(&**!"

"Harry!" Hermione gasped as Ron snorted.

"Thanks for the compliment!" Stingchu answered with a wink. "Okay then, kiddies, you two will stay here with Harry at the end of the session while I escort the rest of the class back to school, where I have to take care of a little errand… Oh, and Harry?"

"What is it **now**?"

"Drop and give me 50 push-ups for interrupting my lecture before I could finish it!" He barked, shaking a fist as he rose to his full (rather pathetic) height.

"WHAT!"

--

"Okay, kiddies" Stingchu waved at the group "if you wanna see a good show, come on down to the Great Hall for lunch. If you don't, stay in your fuckin' rooms. It begins in about 20 minutes, so don't be late." He grinned at them, before leaping off, bounding across the field and up the giant castle to the highest point, the tip of the astronomy tower's very roof. Here, there was a small room, which he entered through the window.

Stingchu looked up at the disguised form crawling through the window, abruptly stopping in the middle of the sentence. A child-sized, human Ritten blinked up at his papa with luminous amethyst eyes, confused at the sudden pause, before turning to the stranger in the room.

"Oh, welcome back papa" he said pleasantly, his voice soft and airy "you were just reading to me a bit about Uncle Yemis." Stingchu removed his mask.

"Ah, I know" he commented as he smoothed down his hair "but it's time for the unveiling, so I need you to go meet up with Harry. Where's Galaxy, by the way?"

"He's been doing a lot of spying" Ritten answered "he's already figured out a lot of the stuff they were hiding. It's gotten easier ever since you called Mr. Dumb-bore out for lying."

"Eh? Is that so?" He grinned wickedly "it sounds like you've been doing a bit of spying of your own." Ritten blushed as he was found out.

"We take turns…" The Stingchu next to him grinned.

"So, tell me how far you've gotten."

--

"Well, Galaxy has been doing most of the work, and he started the first week of Harry's classes. He began by spying on the professors in the school. You may have heard of that Falsy-Man's misfortune when settling into his office?"

"Eh? That was Galaxy! Niiiiceee…" The other Stingchu merely chuckled.

"Yeah, he destroyed the guy's detector stuff; he didn't know if the things would spot him or not, so he thought it better just to get rid of them." Stingchu nodded, gesturing for the small Animalgum to continue "well, after tailing them all for a few weeks, he found this Pensieve thingy in Mr. Dumb-bore's office, which is like a soup for your memories to float in. Galaxy learned lots of stuff that way, though he almost got caught the first time. He didn't learn much for a while 'cause of the tight-ass security, but it was just after Halloween that I got to join in. That's when it got easier."

"Oh? So, what did you guys find that I missed?"

"Well, since I joined in, we split the time for keeping tabs on the professors, so Galaxy spent half his sneaky-time in the Pensieve, and he found out about things faster. After I got a lot better at it, Galaxy split my time up too."

"Why? Something he wanted to find out?"

"Yup, he wanted to investigate the castle more."

"Was it because of the Leier connection to the Gaia Pool?"

"How'd you know?"

"Your papa doesn't miss something so simple, besides" he pointed at his blue eye "did you think this eye looks all freaky just for show?"

"I guess not" Ritten said with a blush "anyway, I found out a lot about this castle, and the way it works under normal times, and also under pressure."

"Really? That didn't take long." Ritten grinned in response.

"Of course not, I'm your son, after all." The three laughed lightly "anyway, the school's not built with material from the earth at all" he grinned "every part of this school was built by pure magic and nothing else – as if it was 'poof'ed out of thin air."

"Oh? Really?" Stingchu seemed thoughtful "that means the founders of this school must've been able to manipulate the flow of the Gaia Pool, which means-…" Stingchu suddenly paused, his expression fierce. "Neh, I've been wondering something lately, about all this wizard/witch crap, and also the difference between the standard Vizor, and these guys."

"Huh?"

"When I first came here," The seated Stingchu began "I found something funny about the energy fields, and about your older brother – something that ain't in style for a typical Vizor – so I looked around some more before makin' some tests up for the younger ones who wouldn't notice how odd it was to test their magical flexibility rather than teach in a normal-type way. I suppose that they've really been fooled into thinkin' I'm pullin' this shit out of my ass, but I woulda at least expected the adults to be more suspicious. Then again, no one's figured out a maniac yet, neh?"

"Papa? What do you mean about all that 'regular Vizor' stuff?"

"A regular Vizor" the standing Stingchu replied "should find Reversing and Advancing damn near impossible. It should also be impossible to Tree-Speak, but these guys are doin' things way too easy…"

"What does that mean?"

"Means somethin' funny's in the blood." The seated Stingchu replied with a grin. "Oh, I do love a good mystery."

--

"So did Galaxy find any secrets about your brother?"

"As a matter of fact" a voice replied from the window "several."

"Eh? Oh, hey, Galaxy" One of the Stingchu's replied "welcome back."

"Yeah" the other spoke up "come one in." 

"Oi, stop doing that – one of you is scary enough."

"Like I have the time to redo the technique today" Stingchu commented in a half-whine "I have to get back to Harry and the two other pups soon, and the unveiling is in about 10 minutes. Now" his face was serious again "tell me everything you found."

--

"So…a betrayed Fidelius Charm, a prophecy, an 'Order of the Phoenix', a secret to the immortal enemy, and, my favorite, an old fucking dumbass lacking the balls to tackle a nightmare that could prevent the deaths of hundreds of people." He snorted, jamming a cigarette into his mouth "thanks for the info, Galaxy. It's shed quite a bit of light on what I gotta do here."

"What do you mean?" The little dragon frowned "hey, don't go and do something stupid, you nut." All he got in return was a psychotic grin.

"I never do stupid things, midget" he crouched on the windowsill "only crazy ones." With that he leaped out the window.

"…" Galaxy blinked as he began realizing something "say…didn't he forget his mask?"

--

Author's Note(s): Well, that's all she wrote for this chapter. The next one will be out before the end of April, and that's gonna be a juicy one! To all those still stickin' with this shitty-ass fanfic, I bow to you gratefully.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note(s): There are several themes in this story that have been massively altered. Things will become clear in the next installment exactly how. I appreciate your patience with me thus far, and look forward to both present and future viewers. For those who have stuck with this neglected script, I thank you from the bottom of my heart and humbly accept your patronage.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything involved with the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

"OI, GRANDPA!!" Stingchu's voice seemed to come from nowhere, echoing across the hall over the din and effectively silencing the entire hall with the painful level of its volume. "I know a couple of things now that I shouldn'a found out!" The voice was taunting, playful, and mischievous, but more importantly it didn't seem to have a source…that was, until…

"Look!! The Headmaster's chair!!" A girl shrieked, pointing at the high backing, where Stingchu perched, casually smoking a cigarette and grinning out at them with an uncovered face.

"Hey, Booboo" Stingchu cooed down at Dumbledore, before blowing smoke straight in his face "guess what I did." He gave the headmaster no chance to answer, though, and promptly leaped from the chair and across the entire hall, landing on top of the main entrance to the hall, sitting comfortably.

He chuckled then at the looks of surprise on their faces, a hand fiddling with the hilt of his katana. "Nehhhh…" He tapped the edge of the hilt against the stone he was seated on, creating a harsh monotonous 'clink' over and over. "What interesting faces you all put on just for me. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were all having a contest or some shit like that…" He picked at the scar coming up from his jaw idly "I wonder – am I really _that_ scary, or are you all just pussies?"

He stood "ah, I don't give a fuck anymore, I'm not here to mutter crazy stuff, I'm here to insult people, which brings me to my point." In the space of a split second, the carefree grin had slipped from Stingchu's rough features as easily as a sheet of snow, his posture stiff, almost rigid. The normally short, unassuming body of the emanchu was exuding an aura of absolute fury that easily outmatched the intimidation of Fluffy, the three-headed dog.

The scrape of metal was almost unbearably loud, and some of the students winced at the sound as Stingchu slowly, deliberately, drew his sword, pointing it straight at Dumbledore. "You, old geezer" the frown was small, not unlike what one might wear when seeing something distasteful. "I don't know much about you, and I don't really give much of a flying fuck anymore. From the first few paces, you've done nuthin' but piss me the fuck off, an' I've been sick and tired of the shit you've been shoveling." His eyes were two focused beams, boring into Dumbledore's with an intensity that spoke of dangerous promises. "Now, I ain't gonna go throwin' your dirty panties in public or nuthin', but you'll understand it no matter how I say it."

As if it had been just a warning glare before, Stingchu face twisted into a horrific grimace, scars stretching, peeling his face into a monstrous expression. "It's all good and well to do what's right, but if you still go to bed with a tingle of regret, or a nasty twist in your gut that tells ya it's ashamed of ya, then you ain't doin' nuthin' right. Manipulatin' people, lyin', runnin' from a nightmare – for weak people that's alright, you can forgive them 'cause they can't do or know any better 'till ya teach 'em somethin' or other about the facts of life. But…"

He paused, as if unable to handle what he had to say, before continuing… "When you decided to lead people, you forfeited the right to be scared of the bumps in the night. You also let go of the opportunity to meddle with someone's life as much as ya already have. A leader has to fight the night's demons, you bastard, and they never, **ever** think of anythin' but preparin' the people under their wing in the best possible way for the worst possible situation. Anythin' less is cruelty."

For a moment, the expression faded, and Stingchu almost seemed to be in pain. "Now, I've found out how much you've hidden from the young pup, and it hurts to know I'll have to tell 'im all that I'm gonna, but I'm a _Bah'ri_" his enraged expression returned, and the icy fingers of fear wrapped around Dumbldore's heart once more "when I accepted that position, it became my duty to protect and prepare him to face what he had ta face. Let it be a warnin' to ya" the grip on his sword tightened to a steely power "right now, yer a shield between the worst possible thing yer planet ever fared and things that the living shouldn't suffer. Yer still useful…but nuthin but me an' my own last longer than a few millenia…" The sword pierced through stone, putting a 20 foot long crack in the archway wall "so…this mark's a symbol of a promise I'm makin' to ya."

He re-sheathed the katana "I'm raisin' the pup now, which means he's gonna grow up to be able to fight off somethin' as nasty as what he's gonna have to face up to. He might even become strong enough to save the sorry hides of some of the kids here. Point is, when he does eventually face that cunt of a bastard, you can be damn sure he'll be strong enough to wipe that baby killer out. That day will be the second day I draw my sword for you." He jumped down, turning away "that day'll be your last…" With that, Stingchu walked out of the Great Hall, and not once did he look back on those he left in his wake. It was as he always did things, even in those times when all that he ever left behind him was a trail of blood and corpses.

--

"You're too reckless…" Galaxy commented from where he was, perched on Stingchu's shoulder. "For that matter, this forest is too dangerous to stay in – it's too close to the old bastard, and much too open…In any case, what are you going to tell Harry?" Galaxy glanced cautiously at Ritten, who was playing with the crickets nearby in cat form.

"The only thing he's ever really needed from anyone; the truth" Stingchu replied, digging a pinky into one of his ears.

"…" Galaxy stared at the hand above him "what the fuck are you doing?"

"Digging for golden truth nuggets" Stingchu replied with a fanged grin.

"ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID!?" He snapped, dragging his small, sharp claws across the emanchu's face. "WHAT IS **WRONG** WITH YOU!?" Galaxy screamed as the emanchu laughed, his cheek bleeding somewhat heavily from the deep gashes.

--

Stingchu hummed happily, skipping down a nonexistent path to the clearing where he'd left the three young Vizors, but unfortunately paying no attention to where he was going, Ritten close behind, yapping playfully as he 'chased' his father. Galaxy soared above the two, thoroughly exasperated by the insane emanchu's behavior. An arrow chose that moment to stick into a nearby tree.

"Eh?" Stingchu stared at the arrow, not noticing the centaur standing on a nearby tree, another arrow notched into the bow and aimed for the emanchu's head. "Is this…" he gasped, uttering a startled exclamation that garnered an acidic look from Galaxy, no matter that said utterance was made in a language of gibberish. "Could this be the famed Teleportation Arrow?" Stingchu finally said in English, his voice exultant "one of the famous Miscellaneous Arrows controlled only by the goddess of chaos, MuMu the Lute?" Galaxy, having heard the question, face-faulted, missed the branch he was preparing to land on, and performed a perfect face-plant 20 feet down as the centaur stared in sheer amazement at the random nature of the statement.

"Papa…" Ritten began "is…any of that even real…?"

"Oh, sweet goddess!!" Stingchu knelt before the arrow, hands clasped together as if in prayer as he completely ignored the question "how generous of you to show me the beauty of your divine will!!" The centaur gaped this time, wide-eyed as the emanchu began to cry joyful tears.

"Papa, get up – you're embarrassing yourself…"

"B-But…the arrow!! I **must** pay my respects…!"

"Papa, that arrow didn't just come from nowhere…" As if mocking him, another arrow was aimed at the ground and fired. Stingchu turned to the new arrow, staring at it for a few moments, before…

"Could it be!?" He bowed, prostrating himself before the arrow "the Arrow of Sometimes-There!! Truly, the beautiful goddess, MuMu of the Lute, finds me in her good graces today!! Oh, Goddess, your divine favor moves me so!! My loyalty I will convey by sacrificing as many bodies in your name as is possible in the 10 minutes of the next Harvest Sunset!!"

"Oi" Ritten glared at the centaur as a tiger cub with spikes running along its spine "you fire one more of those things and I **swear** I'll rip your nuts off…"

"Nooo!!!" The next moment, Stingchu was squeezing Ritten to his chest, seemingly oblivious to the spines drawing blood from his arms "don't!! You might catch little crotch-crabbies!!!"

"Crotch…crabbies?" Ritten stared up at his papa in confusion…a split second before Galaxy's claws were embedded in the emanchu's cheeks.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!" The biomechanical dragon screeched, blue eyes glowing a vivid red color in their center as Stingchu was bent backward to stare at the sky. "FIRST, THE THING WITH DUMBLEDORE, THEN THE FUCKIN' ARROWS, AND NOW YOU'RE SOILING YOUR KID'S MIND WITH THE KNOWLEDGE OF STDS!!!?!? WHAT THE FUCK IS **WRONG **WITH YOU?!!"

"You can never start too young with sexual education!" Stingchu said with a dazzling grin, his fangs gleaming eerily as he turned to look at the dragon perched on his throat "besides, who said I was **soiling** it?"

"…" Galaxy's brow twitched dangerously… The centaur walked off as Galaxy ripped off an entire chunk of Stingchu's face, his attitude beyond hopeless as he reflected upon the fact that two of the small group of maniacs had never even noticed he was there…

--

Soon, the entire (horror) scene was over with, and Galaxy was, once more, perched upon Stingchu's shoulder, purring like a Hummer as he licked the blood off his claws. Stingchu (who had, by now, regenerated his cheeks) was secretly amused at the sound, especially since he knew the cause of it was the taste. Emanchu were known to be quite delectable, like a tastier version of humans. In fact, it was that flavor that had wiped out most of the species.

"Aaaaahhhh!!" Stingchu froze as his thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Ritten's scream "papa!! Heeeelllp!!!" He was there barely a moment after the sound of the scream, and took no time in ripping the obscenely large spider in half as easily as if it was a piece of paper. Tossing the bloody mess to the side, he scooped the little Animalgum up into one arm as he unsheathed his sword in less than a split second.

"Who the **fuck** is there?!" He snapped, eyeing the clearing of spider webs suspiciously "and don't say Santa Claus, 'cuz I already killed that fat bastard!!"

"Stingchu!!" Galaxy hissed in his ear "shut up; just get us out of here. I'm pickin' up a hell of a lot of giant arachnids comin' up here…"

"Dammit, Galaxy…" Stingchu grumbled "why do you gotta spoil the fun? I wanted somethin' to jump out an' catch me off guard, but now I know what's goin' on…" He sighed, turning away "no point in it now…" With that, he crouched, and then leaped clear out of the spider's domain, leaping from tree branch to tree branch.

"Hm…" Aragog took some time to absorb the scents of the three creatures that had been there. The first, he could tell, was a small, young creature barely the age of childhood, the second smelled strangely of metal and flesh, and the third… "Interesting…" he commented "this one seems to be an ally…" He turned back into his den "very well, then – when the Tree Kin returns and the war begins again, our allegiance is his…"

--

"Are you guys talkin' 'bout me?" Stingchu gushed, hanging down from a tree branch, directly overhead the trio of Vizors beneath him. "How sweet!" As he continued to gush like a preteen girl, Galaxy muttered obscenities, lifting himself from the ground directly below the upside down emanchu.

"That's what you get for hangin' on papa's shoulder, uncle." Ritten chimed in, looking bizarre as a smallish puppy with floppy ears. "Papa doesn't pay attention to stuff like gravity…"

"What's gravity?" Stingchu asked tonelessly, a genuine expression of confusion passing over his face as the rest of those in the clearing stared at him, two of the humans in utter shock. "Ooh, wait, I think I might know, actually. Give it a second…" Instead of saying anything at all about gravity, the emanchu gave a sudden, inglorious spasm of some kind of shock before falling awkwardly out of the tree, almost bashing his skull open on a rock directly beneath him. He landed face first on Galaxy instead.

"…" Ritten stared at the spot where the small dragon had been, before shrugging helplessly, unable to think of anything to say about the situation.

"I've got it!" Stingchu suddenly replied, a finger triumphantly held up in the air as he lifted his face from the mini-dragon's rib cage "gravity, or the acceleration of gravity, is the acceleration of a falling body in a gravitational field, inversely proportional to the square of the distance from the body of the source of the field to the center of said source, most likely being a large terrestrial object, but also possibly an object possessing certain gravitational anomalies in its structural make up, or any type of gravitational spell!" (Thank you …) He grinned at the astonished faces (yes, even Harry's) that were staring back, before blinking at the mixture of shock and horror Hermione and Ron were wearing.

Propping his chin up on one of his hands, he fixed them with a curious stare. "What?" He asked "did I forget to put on the mask, or everything **but** the mask?" He blinked, staring upwards as he seriously contemplated whether he'd done so or not…before laughing as he realized that, just like the last time he'd voiced the question, he had forgotten to put on any underwear before dressing for the day.

Before he had the opportunity to divulge this little tidbit of information, however, he was lifted bodily into the air by an enraged, 30ft tall version of Galaxy. The now towering giant of a dragon roared, wings flaring as he drew back the fist he'd palmed Stingchu into, before throwing the emanchu from the clearing. As if shot out of a canon, Stingchu flew across the treetops, deeper into the forest, screaming various pleased exclamations (ex: 'wee', 'fun', etc), before a rather large 'CRACK' was heard and silence enveloped the forest.

"Whoa…" Harry stared up at Galaxy "I didn't know you could do that…"

"It's his internal defense mechanism" Stingchu replied from Galaxy's now towering shoulder. Of course, there were many double-takes, from all sides of the clearing, before he leaped down from the shrinking Galaxy…of course he was just in time, as the little dragon reverted back too quickly, and was sent falling…

"Yah!!!" He yelled, before crashing right into Stingchu's outstretched palm. "I HATE YOU!!!" The dragon screamed, rubbing the new bruise on his nose "EVERY TIME YOU OPEN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, A STAR EXPLODES!!!"

"Actually" the emanchu retorted with an amused grin "it only implodes, and, coincidentally, it's from the same dimension every time…"

"You're impossible…" Harry muttered, and Hermione and Ron flinched at the resulting grin…hey, facial scars are **not** pretty when they move…

--

"What are you?" Ron asked, receiving a slap upside the head from Hermione "OI! What was that for?"

"Honestly, Ron, do you have any manners at all?"

"I didn't mind" Stingchu replied as he firmly placed his pinky into a nostril.

"Papa, you're horrible" Ritten whispered from his ankles, giggling.

"That's revolting" Hermione commented "but Ron had a point in asking that question. I've never seen a magical creature like you before. Are you the last of your kind?" Her hands fidgeted nervously; she wanted, very badly, to feel if the fur on his face was real.

"He's not a magical creature" Harry deadpanned, beating Stingchu to the punch "he's an alien." A dead silence followed.

"Wow" Stingchu commented "I think that's the first time you've actually beaten me at shocking the living crap out of people." He grinned, eyes watering, before pulling the slightly shorter wizard into a fierce hug "I'm so proud!!"

"Ow! Geroff you nutter!" Harry complained as his nose went straight into the emanchu's chest. "I want to ask you something!"

"What?" Stingchu asked as he calmly released him…and then began brushing the minute traces of dust off Harry's shirt.

"…Thank you, mother, I very much appreciate the brush-down, now can you focus?" He quipped, making Galaxy, now on the ground, laugh.

"Of course, _Zishiko_; shoot."

"Okay…I'm really hoping you didn't call me something horrible, but anyway how did you get back here after Galaxy threw you?"

"Oh, that?" He asked "easy, I never left."

"Hey, Galaxy!!" Another Stingchu rushed into the clearing, his head covered in blood "can we do that again?! I almost went clear across the forest and-oh…" He blinked at the humans gaping at him "you haven't told them yet, have you?"

"Was getting to it, but this probably saved time anyway" said the Stingchu standing next to Harry.

"They're gonna have heart problems when they're older, aren't they?"

"This planet has medication for that…"

"Not really the point is it?"

"Well, gee, did you get the health-freak side of me buried under all the other crap?" The clean Stingchu frowned "come to think of it, since when do I give a flying fuck about people outside the family getting health problems?"

"Well" the bloody version of Stingchu began "it probably extends to the fact that we've always had a certain need to help kids and look out for them. Plus, there's the fact that we suffer from the 'Empty Nest Syndrome' almost every day we're not raising a kid or two…or ten for that matter." The Stingchu next to Harry shifted uncomfortably, looking curiously guilty about something or other.

"That was a fluke and you know it" that Stingchu finally said "that orphanage was falling apart by the time I got there; those kids wouldn't have lasted another day without me."

"You could've called someone from Trieen to take over." The bloody one retorted "Spike would've found a good replacement, and you have enough money to make sure they were well looked after. Face it, dude, you can't resist taking care of every kid you come across…especially the orphans…"

"What are you, my fucking psychiatrist?" The clean Stingchu retorted, looking amused about the entire situation "besides, you're the one who wants to get your skull bashed open again."

"The fact that I'm derived from you doesn't say much about you either." The other Stingchu said with a wicked grin.

"Touché" his clean counterpart said, dramatically posturing with a hand over his heart "now I have wounded mine own self in heart, and no longer shall I find a fire greater than thus."

"…Dramatic fruit…" the bloody Stingchu said after a pause, and then rolled his eyes with an amused snort.

"Harry?" Galaxy tugged on his owner's pant leg, pointing at the clean Stingchu "my brain hurts; can I bash his in until it looks like there aren't two of him anymore?"

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON!!?!!" Ron finally screamed.

--

By the time everything had been straightened out and explained to Harry's young friends, the sun had begun to set. Despite this, Hermione still had questions, and was writing feverishly on a roll of parchment she'd fished from her bag before the conversation had begun. When she began to squint from lack of light, Stingchu surprised her by summoning orbs of light from nowhere with a wave of the hand.

"How do you do that?" She asked in wonder. Stingchu shrugged, staring at his hand as he focused on trying to remember how, exactly, that particular bit of magic worked.

"Er…" he finally began, "I think it has something to do with creating a bioluminescent liquid from contained fusion. I can't really remember…and I'm not sure if you'll be able to duplicate it either…" Hermione blinked, but said nothing; throughout the conversation it had seemed like he'd almost read her mind on occasion, answering questions she had not even voiced.

"Do you **ever** use your wand?" Ron groaned in exasperation, pointing at the slim stick of black wood tucked against the emanchu's side. Stingchu just gave him an oddly blank look before replying.

"Of course I do; why buy it if I don't use it?"

"I think what Ron means is why you don't use it to do magic?" Harry said quickly as he noticed his friend's ears turning pink. Stingchu shrugged as he pulled his wand from its holster, staring at it as if it could answer for him. "Stingchu?" Harry stared at his absent-minded guardian, before shaking him by the shoulder.

"Oh," Stingchu blinked down at his young charge, his expression genuinely apologetic, "sorry; was thinking of how to say it."

"What do you mean?" Hermione seemed apprehensive, almost worried of his possible explanation.

"Well," Stingchu frowned, and for the first time Harry saw what the furry yellow alien looked like when a situation became awkward for him. "Whenever I use it, it does all this weird stuff to everything…I…don't really know why, but using it makes me a little nervous…plus when I used it the first time, I almost had a fit of the crazies."

"Could you show us?" Harry asked, almost excited; he'd seen many things that Stingchu could do, but not something the emanchu had never done before his mysterious arrival in the Dursley's spare bedroom…

"Alright," Stingchu replied easily, standing and facing away, targeting a boulder nearby, and then waving his wand at it. What happened was almost…scary…

--

Whilst one Stingchu entertained the trio, the other had returned to Hogwarts in search of two Slytherin students. He'd found Aaron in rather good spirits, enjoying Stingchu's gift of a rather finely aged wine – it had been the boy's birthday when he'd given it, after all. Though seeing Stingchu covered in blood had been rather alarming at first… After assuring the kind-hearted lad that he was uninjured, Stingchu left the boy to his own devices, and went in search of one Draco Malfoy.

Aforementioned young Vizor was calmly slumbering in his room, blissfully unaware of anything around him be it snores or the open and shut of a door. Stingchu's feet grasping his bed post, however, was quite another matter. Waking with a start, the Slytherin cautiously peeked out from behind his curtains, almost yelping at the sight of the emanchu, perched like a gargoyle on his bed.

"Sorry to wake ya," Stingchu said with a rather disturbing grin, "wanted to know why ya haven't called on me yet."

"Wh-what?" Draco could hardly form a thought, staring up at the startling appearance of the alien in his room.

"The necklace, remember? I told you to…wait…" The black, dog-like nose on Stingchu's face twitched as he sought out the amulet's signature bleed-off. "Why isn't it with you?" Draco, pale-faced and unresponsive, made Stingchu frown. "Oi; I said, why isn't the amulet I gave you in that book store with you now?"

"Y-You're…??"

"Yeah; I'm Mr. Ski Mask. Now, my amulet?"

--

At first, nothing really happened other than a slight distortion of the boulder's image. Then, the stone began to shift, before moving as if made of water, twisting and stretching violently even as its surface boiled. The sound of an animal being tortured escaped some unknown orifice of the rock even as it stretched upward, towards the heavens. Finally, as if adding insult to injury, the surface of the stone began to sprout feathers, half of them pink and the other half vermillion, before solidifying again into a shape not unlike a figure-eight made vertical and three dimensional.

"Bloody hell…" Harry breathed, the first to have recovered due to his resistance against the weirdness that Stingchu emitted like radiation.

"Freaky, huh?" Stingchu said as he walked up to the stone. "Look, the feathers won't even come out." Indeed, when he pulled on the downy covering, he only managed to rip and fray them, but they remain stuck, steadfast, on the morphed stone. "You don't wanna know what happened to the last tree I tried it out on…"

"…" Stingchu blinked at the glare Harry set on him, waiting rather than asking for a response.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Indeed, there was a small, bronze coin in Stingchu's outstretched palm.

"You suck," Harry said, "you know how bad I want to ask now, don't you?"

"Um…" the emanchu frowned uncertainly, "yes?" As Harry's angry glare deepened, Stingchu reflected that it might be better to make the fault of scarring the young man's mind lie on himself rather than anyone else. "Well, you, see, apparently most of the tree's atoms had been parts of people at one point or the other, so when I waved the wand, some parts turned into naked humans and other parts into…well, I don't really know what the other stuff was. Looked like what happens when rocks fuck organs." At this, Galaxy twitched on Harry's shoulder, his little claws slightly painful in his owner's skin. "It was kind of funny, though," Stingchu continued thoughtfully, "what with all those butts staring back…"

That day, Harry resolved to master his own curiosity; Stingchu would always tell his unspeakable, mind-wrenching stories, but **never again** would Harry give him an excuse!

--

"Your father," Stingchu sneered at the word, "took it away?"

"He saw me eyeing it when we came back from the Alley," Draco said vehemently, "of course, the moment he did it was gone. He's probably given it to one of his contacts in the Ministry." The blonde seemed almost bitter, lost in thought as he spoke.

"Had a lot of things grabbed from under your nose, haven't ya?"

"What?"

"That's why you've stolen stuff from other people, isn't it?" Draco's eyes widened impossibly, and he seemed ready to protest, but instead he just sighed, flopping back down onto his bed. Somehow, he found the prospect of arguing with his insane guest to be extremely unattractive.

"No point in it, is there?"

"If I were to guess, I'd say you were talkin' about the part where you usually lie and say I'm lying." Draco just gave him a look halfway between annoyed and exhausted. "Hm?" Stingchu looked closer, his excellent night vision giving him a perfect view of the child's face. "Geez, do you sleep at all? You look like a train wreck…"

"Y-You're one to talk. Is that blood?"

"Maybe," he replied, before jumping over to land in front of Draco's trunk, "and maybe I killed a mutant tomato on my way over and when it exploded it covered me in its goopy entrails. Now," he began rifling through his young companion's clothes like a demon possessed, "let's see if we can't find a suitable replacement…"

--

Stingchu went silent in the middle of explaining to Hermione the mechanics behind the manipulation of pure energy. Blinking, he looked to the edges of the clearing covered by the night's darkest shadows. Harry didn't have to see his guard's frown to know Stingchu wasn't feigning his focus – with his hypersensitive hearing, Stingchu often heard things coming before anyone saw them. Plus, there wasn't a time in Harry's memory when the insane bastard had turned away from a conversation for no reason.

"I'll be right back." He muttered, before jumping into the shadows so quickly that his movement sent everyone in the clearing jumping in shock.

It was five minutes before Stingchu returned to the clearing, sopping wet and whistling a jaunty tune, a rather large catfish slung casually over his shoulder. The poor thing seemed damaged; bits of scale and flesh were missing, and what flesh was left on the head was clearly mangled.

"What was that about?" Ron asked, clearly perturbed by the fish's presence. Harry just shook his head, pointing to the fish.

"Just tell me you didn't use that thing to kill somebody."

"Ok," Stingchu replied with a truly evil grin, pushing his soaked hair away from his face, "I didn't use that thing to kill somebody…" Harry raised a brow at the barely-contained laughter threatened to send the emanchu into a fit, "but I did use this FISH to kill somebody!!" Hermione and Ron gaped in horror, Harry groaned, and it was all Galaxy could do to prevent himself from going off the deep end. Ritten merely trotted up to the carcass of the giant fish in kitten form, and began chewing on what parts he could reach.

--

Leana dodged, tucked and rolled out of the way, almost knocking the entire table over in an effort to escape the vicinity of her chair and get out of range. Her own dinner would not be salvaged, but she reasoned that she didn't really have to eat anyway so there was no use crying over the ruined food. Besides, she didn't want partially-digested catfish all over her. Still, it was strange how Spike had just spontaneously barfed his entire dinner without warning, spilling the food he'd just swallowed all over his half of the table.

He was still coughing and gagging by the time the last of the ichor escaped him, but Leana could see by the state of their dining area that she wasn't going to be returning to her seat by the tall dragon anytime soon. As it was, she walked over to him, her hand glowing as she lay it on his shoulder. Her full body exam revealed that the dragon was in perfect health (all immortality aside), and that the food was not poisoned or tainted. In short, there was no damn reason for the dragon to just spontaneously vomit like that.

"Spike?" She questioned, turning in disgust away from the table as Diagon began to eat the regurgitate on the table, "what happened?"

"…" Spike turned away from the ghastly habit their dear friend had before replying, not trusting himself to refrain from throw up at the sight. "My gag reflex was triggered," he finally said, "without cause…" He then stood abruptly, rushing from the room before Diagon **gave** him cause to barf. Leana, glancing at Diagon one last time, followed; she had no desire to mimic Spike's outburst.

--

"You know," Stingchu began as he wrung water from his hair, "there was something about that group of corpses that bothered me." Harry frowned; he didn't like the idea, but it was painfully obvious that Stingchu had committed several murders in the past few minutes…with a giant fish as his weapon no less.

"Did you have to…" the young Vizor squirmed, "did you really have to kill them?" Stingchu blinked at him, swiping at his soaked trench coat before answering.

"I dunno," he shrugged, "it just occurred to me; they were headed straight for us, had their wands out…and I don't think they were coming around for dinner…" At the mention of food, Ron's stomach gurgled.

"You don't suppose we've missed dinner?" He asked.

"Dinner?!" Hermione squawked, "is that really all you can think of?!"

"Er…" Ron rethought his words, and then kept his mouth shut.

"How could you just-?!" She tried to finish her exclamation, but Stingchu's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.

"Well," he said softly after a long silence, "even if you asked me for a reason, I couldn't give you one. It just happens sometimes…"

"Yo!" The group turned to see that the bloody version of their host had returned…with a deer slung over one shoulder. "I miss anything interesting?"

* * *

Author's Note(s): As you can see, more glimpses into the insanity that is Stingchu, a slight shift in plot dynamic, and (hopefully) a faster pace storyline wise. Truthfully, this really is the midway point. There won't be more than 30 chapters total to this fanfiction.

As previously stated, I thank all of you out there for your patronage.


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